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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Victims to the jazz 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Los Fastidios,
Bill Near,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
The Golliwogs,
Judy Mowatt,
Q65,
Surgeon,
Tres Demented,
Pierre Henry,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare,
The Smoke,
Desert Stars,
The Saints,
Peter & Gordon,
The Index,
The Human League,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
Shoche,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warren Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monks,
Lower 48,
The Selecter,
Visage,
Flipper,
kango's stein massive,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Joe Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
Todd Terry,
Minny Pops,
Mad Mike,
Idris Muhammad,
Boz Scaggs,
10cc,
Minutemen,
Ituana,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
Sam Rivers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arcadia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.