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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 John Lydon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners 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?
Au Pairs,
Ultravox,
Andrew Hill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boredoms,
the Slits,
Flipper,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Buckinghams,
Dual Sessions,
Gabor Szabo,
Tubeway Army,
The Move,
The Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lee Hazlewood,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Real Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Almond,
Lightning Bolt,
T.S.O.L.,
Jandek,
Chris & Cosey,
Fad Gadget,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Martian,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
Visage,
The Standells,
Pylon,
Average White Band,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cowsills,
Gerry Rafferty,
The American Breed,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
Infiniti,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.