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 Cyprus and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Pantytec to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Steve Hackett,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
The Gladiators,
Pierre Henry,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moby Grape,
The Smiths,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxette,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Cameo,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Bluetip,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
New York Dolls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gories,
Zero Boys,
Ultra Naté,
John Lydon,
JFA,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Nick Fraelich,
The Victims,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
R.M.O.,
Cheater Slicks,
Crooked Eye,
The Tremeloes,
Groovy Waters,
Lakeside,
Fad Gadget,
Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.