Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lesotho and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Eli Mardock,
The Count Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Bananas,
Skriet,
The Litter,
Scientists,
Donny Hathaway,
Crime,
John Holt,
Arab on Radar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
This Heat,
Roxy Music,
Japan,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Subhumans,
Amon Düül II,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris Corsano,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sonics,
Warsaw,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
Wire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gap Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
K-Klass,
Echospace,
Gang Green,
Sound Behaviour,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
X-102,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cluster,
One Last Wish,
Yaz,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
The Saints,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nico,
10cc,
Quantec,
KRS-One,
Skaos,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.