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 China and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Gang Green to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare,
The Buckinghams,
Shuggie Otis,
Stetsasonic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maurizio,
Sun City Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gregory Isaacs,
Trumans Water,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
The Pretty Things,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Excepter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wire,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
MDC,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Hot Snakes,
Davy DMX,
T. Rex,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Boz Scaggs,
Second Layer,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Alice Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
Morten Harket,
The Happenings,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
The J.B.'s,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.