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 Cameroon and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Tres Demented,
Urselle,
Joensuu 1685,
Alphaville,
Aswad,
the Germs,
Lindisfarne,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
Suicide,
Camouflage,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fear,
Arcadia,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
Sun City Girls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Eric Copeland,
Qualms,
Avey Tare,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Neu!,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
Tears for Fears,
DJ Sneak,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Red Krayola,
the Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Lynne,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Kinks,
E-Dancer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Y Pants,
Ponytail,
Spandau Ballet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Zapp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
MDC,
Carl Craig,
David Axelrod,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.