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 Bolivia and from Woodstock.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roxy Music to the disco 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
T. Rex,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Essential Logic,
The Mojo Men,
Bad Manners,
Swell Maps,
Laurel Aitken,
Erasure,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun City Girls,
Bill Wells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
LL Cool J,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
Con Funk Shun,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Patti Smith,
The Fugs,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Green,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
In Retrospect,
Tom Boy,
Dennis Brown,
Rod Modell,
Model 500,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
Graham Central Station,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
Pantytec,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
The Cosmic Jokers,
F. McDonald,
Inner City,
Michelle Simonal,
EPMD,
Howard Jones,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flamin' Groovies,
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.