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 Libya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the dance 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Neil Young,
Deadbeat,
a-ha,
Intrusion,
The Slackers,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Green,
Roxy Music,
Black Sheep,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Motions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quantec,
Joy Division,
Drive Like Jehu,
JFA,
Ornette Coleman,
Kayak,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Derrick May,
Bluetip,
Soul II Soul,
The Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Khruangbin,
The Sound,
Bauhaus,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doors,
Monks,
D'Angelo,
Stiv Bators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television Personalities,
The Trojans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maleditus Sound,
Josef K,
Vainqueur,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Surgeon,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
DJ Sneak,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
Suicide,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Young Rascals,
Man Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Silicon Teens,
Malaria!,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.