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 India and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Negative Approach,
Surgeon,
Bobby Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
Parry Music,
Kerri Chandler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Liliput,
Eden Ahbez,
Sandy B,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
The Gladiators,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Lakeside,
Delta 5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Bronski Beat,
DNA,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Finger,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
The Moleskins,
Babytalk,
David Bowie,
10cc,
Ken Boothe,
Joey Negro,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
The Mojo Men,
The Happenings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Yellowson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
K-Klass,
Young Marble Giants,
Graham Central Station,
Byron Stingily,
Lalann,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.