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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bar-Kays to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
DJ Style,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül,
Alice Coltrane,
Symarip,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Techniques,
James White and The Blacks,
Scratch Acid,
Jeff Lynne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kaleidoscope,
Absolute Body Control,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
The Pretty Things,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
Ronnie Foster,
Neil Young,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Bauhaus,
Massinfluence,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
Excepter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lee Hazlewood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nik Kershaw,
Half Japanese,
Colin Newman,
Mars,
Reagan Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alphaville,
Banda Bassotti,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
Pagans,
Chrome,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
The Offenders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Buckinghams,
Fear,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.