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 Jamaica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the disco 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Blackbyrds,
Arab on Radar,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül,
Peter and Kerry,
Sixth Finger,
The Count Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
a-ha,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Normal,
Faraquet,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Bananas,
Nico,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
The Victims,
Sam Rivers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
Derrick May,
Derrick Morgan,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
The Fuzztones,
The Fortunes,
Suicide,
LL Cool J,
Gang Starr,
Ludus,
Quando Quango,
Radiopuhelimet,
Desert Stars,
Inner City,
Vainqueur,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Ultra Naté,
The Gap Band,
CMW,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
June of 44,
Goldenarms,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Bill Wells,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.