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 Russia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
Erasure,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Wells,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Babytalk,
a-ha,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
kango's stein massive,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
The Buckinghams,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arcadia,
Popol Vuh,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gap Band,
Connie Case,
Agitation Free,
The Martian,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stiv Bators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
Josef K,
Mo-Dettes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oneida,
Joey Negro,
John Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Unrelated Segments,
Fluxion,
The United States of America,
48th St. Collective,
Adolescents,
Qualms,
Boz Scaggs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sun City Girls,
Darondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Marc Almond,
Sugar Minott,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.