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 Macedonia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Techniques to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
Royal Trux,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Ultravox,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Dolphy,
Rakim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Animal Collective,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
The Motions,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fugs,
Isaac Hayes,
World's Most,
Vainqueur,
Outsiders,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Steve Hackett,
DNA,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sonics,
T. Rex,
Japan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Associates,
Mars,
Lyres,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Eli Mardock,
Adolescents,
Matthew Bourne,
Rosa Yemen,
Stereo Dub,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
The Beau Brummels,
This Heat,
The Trojans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Crash Course in Science,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.