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 Gabon and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 The Alarm Clocks to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Sandy B,
David McCallum,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Tubeway Army,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hashim,
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Royal Trux,
Freddie Wadling,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Prince Buster,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Accadde A,
The Grass Roots,
Nas,
Black Moon,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
The Birthday Party,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Roxy Music,
Japan,
Bauhaus,
Matthew Halsall,
Cybotron,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric Copeland,
Panda Bear,
David Axelrod,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Offenders,
Sex Pistols,
Animal Collective,
Arcadia,
The Mummies,
Von Mondo,
Tres Demented,
Television,
Laurel Aitken,
Circle Jerks,
Max Romeo,
The Barracudas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.