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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Robert Palmer 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 Alton Ellis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus 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 grime 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
Leonard Cohen,
Bob Dylan,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kaleidoscope,
Hashim,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Royal Trux,
Wings,
Ponytail,
Sam Rivers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed,
Metal Thangz,
FM Einheit,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Little Man,
Blake Baxter,
Negative Approach,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Swans,
Franke,
Symarip,
Siglo XX,
Robert Wyatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Interpol,
Pulsallama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Starr,
Fear,
Saccharine Trust,
Blossom Toes,
Joensuu 1685,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Moss Icon,
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Bar-Kays,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Monks,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.