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 Morocco and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hoover to the rock 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
The Raincoats,
Kas Product,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronan,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
CMW,
Bad Manners,
Sällskapet,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
Black Moon,
The Busters,
Prince Buster,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
AZ,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
Letta Mbulu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Circle Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Brass Construction,
Davy DMX,
Quadrant,
Spoonie Gee,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Smooth,
Scion,
X-102,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quantec,
Swell Maps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mantronix,
Scan 7,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.