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 Cuba and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Grey Daturas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bob Dylan,
The Golliwogs,
Urselle,
Visage,
Anakelly,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
Joyce Sims,
Essential Logic,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
The Red Krayola,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Pagans,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Trojans,
Susan Cadogan,
the Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Schoolly D,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
Faraquet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roger Hodgson,
Nik Kershaw,
The Raincoats,
Marmalade,
The Monochrome Set,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sonics,
K-Klass,
The Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smiths,
Archie Shepp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.