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 Haiti and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Morten Harket to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Fugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Erasure,
Eric Copeland,
Jacob Miller,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
The Residents,
The J.B.'s,
Gong,
The Neon Judgement,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Outsiders,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grauzone,
Skarface,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
R.M.O.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gichy Dan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David Bowie,
Ten City,
Mantronix,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
John Coltrane,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sandy B,
Stetsasonic,
the Slits,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Rundgren,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scan 7,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.