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 Indonesia and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Todd Rundgren 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rotary Connection,
Idris Muhammad,
Howard Jones,
The Smiths,
David Axelrod,
Severed Heads,
June of 44,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dave Gahan,
Joensuu 1685,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
Second Layer,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Magazine,
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
Supertramp,
The Gap Band,
Roxy Music,
Das Ding,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boredoms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Durutti Column,
Steve Hackett,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Y Pants,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monolake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
James White and The Blacks,
Bush Tetras,
Eden Ahbez,
Mandrill,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
The Modern Lovers,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Technova,
Rhythm & Sound,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.