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 Andorra and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Parry Music to the electroclash 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Golliwogs,
Q and Not U,
Sandy B,
Minnie Riperton,
Don Cherry,
Reagan Youth,
John Holt,
Slave,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Lungfish,
Can,
Stereo Dub,
Duran Duran,
X-Ray Spex,
Siglo XX,
The Slackers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masters at Work,
Make Up,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Amon Düül,
Monolake,
The Associates,
Mo-Dettes,
Unrelated Segments,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Motorama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Thee Headcoats,
CMW,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sister Nancy,
The Buckinghams,
The Fortunes,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
The Last Poets,
Alphaville,
the Human League,
Lou Christie,
X-101,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonic Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Moon,
Mantronix,
Barry Ungar,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Hashim,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.