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 Burkina and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Darondo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Move,
Stiv Bators,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
Whodini,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Talk Talk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
EPMD,
Massinfluence,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stetsasonic,
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Jacob Miller,
John Cale,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Fat Boys,
FM Einheit,
Saccharine Trust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Urselle,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Josef K,
John Foxx,
The Happenings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
The Remains,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.