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 Grenada and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the disco 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Angels of Light,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
Wolf Eyes,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lower 48,
Althea and Donna,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
T.S.O.L.,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Arcadia,
The Invisible,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Main Source,
Talk Talk,
Scott Walker,
Infiniti,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Style,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hoover,
Gabor Szabo,
The Shadows of Knight,
EPMD,
Organ,
Magazine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
Joe Finger,
Swans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
The Fugs,
Gichy Dan,
Junior Murvin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Davy DMX,
Adolescents,
Faust,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
Mr. Review,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Young Rascals,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.