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 Egypt and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar 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 Mr. Review to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skaos,
Delta 5,
The Blackbyrds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Agent Orange,
Bill Near,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Chrome,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tom Boy,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
the Slits,
Dawn Penn,
Alison Limerick,
E-Dancer,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faust,
Stiv Bators,
Theoretical Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Searchers,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flipper,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Human League,
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Brick,
The Five Americans,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Smooth,
Mission of Burma,
Ohio Players,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quadrant,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
PIL,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.