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 Mauritania and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Skaos to the funk 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Marine Girls,
June of 44,
Danielle Patucci,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maurizio,
Graham Central Station,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dead Boys,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
the Association,
Iggy Pop,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Faraquet,
Tubeway Army,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Symarip,
Gang Green,
Half Japanese,
Icehouse,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Near,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ice-T,
Quantec,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gregory Isaacs,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
Joyce Sims,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
The Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
Ken Boothe,
Delta 5,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacques Brel,
Eden Ahbez,
The Happenings,
the Swans,
Deakin,
The Barracudas,
Smog,
The Tremeloes,
Public Enemy,
These Immortal Souls,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.