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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Scott Walker to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Blackbyrds,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Model 500,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bob Dylan,
Sound Behaviour,
John Holt,
Scion,
The Fortunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
Jacob Miller,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Young Marble Giants,
Nas,
Johnny Osbourne,
E-Dancer,
DJ Style,
New York Dolls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxette,
Todd Terry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Steve Hackett,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
Mark Hollis,
Oneida,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
DNA,
The Barracudas,
Bluetip,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Nils Olav,
Idris Muhammad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
JFA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
The Misunderstood,
UT,
H. Thieme,
Rakim,
Lower 48,
Gang Green,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
Fad Gadget,
Henry Cow,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.