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 Italy and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Searchers to the dance 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The American Breed,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Invisible,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultravox,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
Roxy Music,
Sun City Girls,
CMW,
Guru Guru,
the Human League,
The Mummies,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
The Evens,
Minnie Riperton,
Howard Jones,
the Normal,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dead C,
Josef K,
Quando Quango,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doors,
Slick Rick,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nik Kershaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiohead,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Alphaville,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacob Miller,
Magma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ken Boothe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cameo,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Hill,
Lower 48,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
The Leaves,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.