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 Estonia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator 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 Dirtbombs to the grime 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Buckinghams,
Flash Fearless,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dawn Penn,
The Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roger Hodgson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donny Hathaway,
Jandek,
Sparks,
the Sonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Eating Sloth,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
Yaz,
Severed Heads,
The American Breed,
Rekid,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Index,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joyce Sims,
Laurel Aitken,
Fad Gadget,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Newcleus,
Pylon,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
Yusef Lateef,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Easy Going,
Soft Cell,
The Gories,
Roxette,
The Slits,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Pere Ubu,
Bauhaus,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.