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 Tunisia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Oblivians,
Con Funk Shun,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
The Human League,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Icehouse,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alison Limerick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ronan,
Ultravox,
Interpol,
Smog,
Isaac Hayes,
Donald Byrd,
AZ,
Hot Snakes,
Monolake,
Fad Gadget,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heaven 17,
Technova,
In Retrospect,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
Minnie Riperton,
The Skatalites,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
the Slits,
Porter Ricks,
Thompson Twins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
The Motions,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marine Girls,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.