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 Korea South and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Rapeman to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Severed Heads,
Zero Boys,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Hood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mojo Men,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
Susan Cadogan,
Thompson Twins,
The Last Poets,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
Gang Starr,
Scratch Acid,
Sixth Finger,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Count Five,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Talk Talk,
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
Traffic Nightmare,
World's Most,
Tears for Fears,
Royal Trux,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
The Fortunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Crash Course in Science,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
The Five Americans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.