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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Aaron Thompson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Remains,
a-ha,
Ten City,
Patti Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Audionom,
Alice Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
Sugar Minott,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
The Stooges,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
The Cramps,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
Dennis Brown,
Infiniti,
The J.B.'s,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soft Machine,
Ken Boothe,
The Young Rascals,
Rakim,
Wire,
Faraquet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slackers,
Arthur Verocai,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
The Happenings,
Roxette,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Spandau Ballet,
U.S. Maple,
The Birthday Party,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.