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 Djibouti and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soulsonic Force to the crunk 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Black Flag,
Eric Dolphy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
Toni Rubio,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
cv313,
The Litter,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
Peter and Kerry,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül,
Ten City,
Crooked Eye,
The Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Main Source,
Buzzcocks,
Harmonia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gabor Szabo,
Josef K,
Slick Rick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Television Personalities,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
Marine Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Barry Ungar,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Monks,
Scrapy,
Metal Thangz,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott Heron,
T.S.O.L.,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.