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 Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grime 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
E-Dancer,
Flash Fearless,
The American Breed,
Accadde A,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Amon Düül II,
Blossom Toes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cramps,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
Barclay James Harvest,
LL Cool J,
The United States of America,
Slave,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bronski Beat,
Agent Orange,
Fatback Band,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stiv Bators,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Alison Limerick,
Oneida,
Zero Boys,
the Sonics,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delta 5,
Anakelly,
The Evens,
Little Man,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Victims,
The Golliwogs,
KRS-One,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
K-Klass,
Thee Headcoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Rundgren,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.