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 Jordan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Halifax.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Girls At Our Best! to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mars,
Pantytec,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sarah Menescal,
Lindisfarne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
Groovy Waters,
Magma,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
The Index,
Visage,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Nick Fraelich,
The Wake,
Q and Not U,
Reuben Wilson,
Fear,
Jerry's Kids,
Japan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Television,
Loose Ends,
Desert Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
EPMD,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camouflage,
Roxette,
Subhumans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Idris Muhammad,
The New Christs,
Quando Quango,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rod Modell,
Scan 7,
Eurythmics,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.