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 Barbados and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Ten City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Public Image Ltd.,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cecil Taylor,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
Lou Christie,
Godley & Creme,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Lyres,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
Alphaville,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
The Smoke,
Oneida,
Fela Kuti,
The Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Swell Maps,
The Mojo Men,
Scientists,
Main Source,
Cluster,
Amon Düül,
The Buckinghams,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Organ,
MC5,
The Saints,
Matthew Halsall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Albert Ayler,
Fat Boys,
Pere Ubu,
David Axelrod,
The Slackers,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Soft Machine,
Joy Division,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.