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 Kuwait and from Columbus.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Scratch Acid,
Amazonics,
The American Breed,
Y Pants,
Jerry's Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Soft Machine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Outsiders,
Tom Boy,
Con Funk Shun,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
B.T. Express,
Scan 7,
Michelle Simonal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scrapy,
Goldenarms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Martian,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Womack,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
The Divine Comedy,
The Human League,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
The Names,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Blues Magoos,
Pylon,
Roxy Music,
Jacques Brel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brand Nubian,
Eurythmics,
Howard Jones,
Hashim,
Stiv Bators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily,
Sandy B,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.