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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Silicon Teens,
Flash Fearless,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
The Real Kids,
Black Moon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Cymande,
Cecil Taylor,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Style,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fad Gadget,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brand Nubian,
Basic Channel,
Q65,
Ice-T,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiohead,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Cale,
The Remains,
June Days,
Infiniti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pagans,
Jeff Lynne,
The Evens,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra,
K-Klass,
Pole,
Nils Olav,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
MC5,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
Average White Band,
Maleditus Sound,
AZ,
Juan Atkins,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
Dead Boys,
Fela Kuti,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
Slick Rick,
Lalann,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.