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 Uzbekistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Colin Newman to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Danielle Patucci,
Young Marble Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Rod Modell,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scion,
Visage,
Ultravox,
Nico,
The Zeros,
The Offenders,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Ohio Players,
The Index,
The Saints,
Janne Schatter,
Ornette Coleman,
The Count Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Star Department,
The Smoke,
Agent Orange,
The Birthday Party,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monks,
Animal Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
June Days,
The Last Poets,
Malaria!,
Von Mondo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Electric Prunes,
Ken Boothe,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
Iggy Pop,
The Shadows of Knight,
Underground Resistance,
the Bar-Kays,
Minnie Riperton,
Thee Headcoats,
Yaz,
Au Pairs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Parry Music,
Altered Images,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Albert Ayler,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.