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 Seychelles and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
Urselle,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Slave,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
Alton Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pylon,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
Simply Red,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aural Exciters,
Gang of Four,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hoover,
Lightning Bolt,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Clear Light,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
World's Most,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Babytalk,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
H. Thieme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New Age Steppers,
Pagans,
Ohio Players,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
Franke,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
Althea and Donna,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.