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 Bahamas and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Count Five to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Graham Central Station,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Sneak,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kas Product,
Adolescents,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Lynne,
Slick Rick,
Cameo,
The Blackbyrds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
Jerry's Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spandau Ballet,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Alice Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
This Heat,
Ultra Naté,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rotary Connection,
Franke,
June Days,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Ronan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed,
Visage,
R.M.O.,
Kurtis Blow,
The Misunderstood,
Erykah Badu,
Crash Course in Science,
Jacob Miller,
The Tremeloes,
The Real Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.