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 Bangladesh and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vainqueur to the electroclash 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Sherman,
Deadbeat,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
Schoolly D,
Archie Shepp,
Mission of Burma,
Glenn Branca,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Wyatt,
Sight & Sound,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
The Moleskins,
The Evens,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gladiators,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Banda Bassotti,
the Slits,
Fear,
Soulsonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
Television Personalities,
Pole,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Toni Rubio,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Main Source,
The Birthday Party,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Divine Comedy,
Faraquet,
Stiv Bators,
Average White Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Sandy B,
10cc,
The Knickerbockers,
David McCallum,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.