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 Japan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Simply Red,
Magazine,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nas,
The Selecter,
The Blues Magoos,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler,
Monks,
The Young Rascals,
a-ha,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Smiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Average White Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mojo Men,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fear,
D'Angelo,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anakelly,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
X-101,
Lou Reed,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Essential Logic,
DJ Style,
Morten Harket,
Cal Tjader,
Reuben Wilson,
June Days,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.