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 Qatar and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rap 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Make Up,
Essential Logic,
Metal Thangz,
Wally Richardson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Invisible,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Neil Young,
Max Romeo,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
Sixth Finger,
The Residents,
The Fugs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sugar Minott,
The Seeds,
the Normal,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Josef K,
Mars,
Sound Behaviour,
Steve Hackett,
The Monks,
The Monochrome Set,
Howard Jones,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ponytail,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Brick,
John Foxx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Tommy Roe,
48th St. Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.