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 United States and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 X-101 to the grunge 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Circle Jerks,
Minor Threat,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Matthew Bourne,
Donny Hathaway,
Amazonics,
Hashim,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Durutti Column,
Pulsallama,
Kurtis Blow,
Camberwell Now,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Barry Ungar,
Lightning Bolt,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers,
Connie Case,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Leaves,
The Associates,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
David McCallum,
The Music Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Althea and Donna,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Joy Division,
The Index,
Delta 5,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MC5,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.