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 Seychelles and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 LL Cool J to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Alton Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Juan Atkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rotary Connection,
Gabor Szabo,
Rosa Yemen,
Index,
Sandy B,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magma,
Dark Day,
Man Parrish,
Little Man,
Sonny Sharrock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Supertramp,
Idris Muhammad,
Althea and Donna,
Altered Images,
Bluetip,
Section 25,
The Litter,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Byron Stingily,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Make Up,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cure,
Pulsallama,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
Michelle Simonal,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ponytail,
Negative Approach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.