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 Belarus and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
Sparks,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wings,
The Five Americans,
Zapp,
Adolescents,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
The Toasters,
Kaleidoscope,
Talk Talk,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Urselle,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
Crime,
Rosa Yemen,
FM Einheit,
John Cale,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Basic Channel,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Happenings,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monks,
Hoover,
Livin' Joy,
Nirvana,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
Steve Hackett,
New York Dolls,
Fugazi,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
The Raincoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scratch Acid,
Aaron Thompson,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.