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 Fiji and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Dual Sessions to the grunge 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Steve Hackett,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Connie Case,
Siglo XX,
Gang Green,
Barrington Levy,
Tom Boy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q65,
Animal Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang of Four,
Mad Mike,
Neu!,
Faust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crime,
The Monochrome Set,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide,
Brass Construction,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
The Golliwogs,
Banda Bassotti,
Scion,
David McCallum,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nas,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
CMW,
Junior Murvin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalann,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Excepter,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra,
The Residents,
Scientists,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Radiohead,
Mantronix,
Boz Scaggs,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
Joy Division,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.