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 Syria and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Altered Images to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
Brick,
Eddi Front,
Royal Trux,
Dark Day,
Panda Bear,
Eric Copeland,
Porter Ricks,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gap Band,
The Monks,
Sound Behaviour,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Fad Gadget,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erasure,
Q65,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
Brass Construction,
Franke,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faraquet,
Peter and Kerry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
Freddie Wadling,
The Real Kids,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Yazoo,
Spoonie Gee,
Supertramp,
Schoolly D,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Interpol,
The Zeros,
Prince Buster,
Drexciya,
Mary Jane Girls,
Japan,
Ten City,
Siglo XX,
The Standells,
Boz Scaggs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Index,
The Fugs,
Malaria!,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.