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 East Timor and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Faust,
Hot Snakes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Zeros,
Erykah Badu,
The Doors,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Clear Light,
Delta 5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
China Crisis,
Animal Collective,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
Lower 48,
Donald Byrd,
The Moody Blues,
The Buckinghams,
Nico,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Don Cherry,
The Wake,
Leonard Cohen,
The Vogues,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fugazi,
The Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Aaron Thompson,
Pole,
Absolute Body Control,
Index,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Essential Logic,
Funkadelic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
PIL,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Victims,
Stereo Dub,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Morten Harket,
John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.