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 Cape Verde and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Panda Bear to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Barrington Levy,
The Invisible,
Stetsasonic,
Pantaleimon,
Anakelly,
The Moody Blues,
Black Sheep,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
The Durutti Column,
Amazonics,
Model 500,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABBA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fear,
Supertramp,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Flamin' Groovies,
Loose Ends,
Inner City,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry's Kids,
D'Angelo,
John Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Average White Band,
Dual Sessions,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eve St. Jones,
Q and Not U,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick May,
Skarface,
Surgeon,
Jawbox,
JFA,
the Sonics,
Qualms,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Public Enemy,
the Normal,
Rekid,
Radiohead,
Sparks,
Idris Muhammad,
X-101,
The Sonics,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.