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 Honduras and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Severed Heads to the dance 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Mandrill,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
The Litter,
Joey Negro,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Walker Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Aural Exciters,
Essential Logic,
Lindisfarne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
This Heat,
ABC,
The Gun Club,
Maleditus Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Half Japanese,
Thee Headcoats,
Arcadia,
Whodini,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Maurizio,
Roger Hodgson,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Leonard Cohen,
Loose Ends,
Moss Icon,
The Beau Brummels,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Copeland,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Vogues,
Desert Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Easy Going,
The Knickerbockers,
Ken Boothe,
Mr. Review,
Pantytec,
Zero Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Piero Umiliani,
Alison Limerick,
One Last Wish,
Television,
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minny Pops,
Godley & Creme,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.