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 Chile and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 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 Iggy Pop to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Vogues,
Visage,
Excepter,
Jerry's Kids,
cv313,
Morten Harket,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
Dead Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Tubeway Army,
Fela Kuti,
John Cale,
Zapp,
David Bowie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minnie Riperton,
The Index,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Circle Jerks,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
Charles Mingus,
Essential Logic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Derrick Morgan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Surgeon,
Negative Approach,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.