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 Vietnam and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Make Up,
Parry Music,
Shoche,
The American Breed,
Talk Talk,
The Beau Brummels,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sugar Minott,
B.T. Express,
This Heat,
The Cramps,
Skarface,
Pussy Galore,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul II Soul,
JFA,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Albert Ayler,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Seeds,
Idris Muhammad,
Quadrant,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Technova,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
Average White Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brass Construction,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
Minor Threat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
The Wake,
Ossler,
Negative Approach,
The Standells,
Newcleus,
The Music Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.