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 Micronesia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
PIL,
Bobby Womack,
a-ha,
Ronnie Foster,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lightning Bolt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Niagra,
Fluxion,
The Motions,
Gong,
Section 25,
Warren Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Altered Images,
New York Dolls,
Wally Richardson,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Lou Christie,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Fela Kuti,
Flash Fearless,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
The Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Audionom,
Delon & Dalcan,
Suicide,
Marmalade,
Skaos,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Little Man,
Bobby Byrd,
Scientists,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
DNA,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Görl,
Blossom Toes,
Index,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.