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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Shoche to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
Altered Images,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
Yusef Lateef,
Outsiders,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
Howard Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
UT,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultravox,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Unwound,
Rotary Connection,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aswad,
Harry Pussy,
Hashim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-102,
Michelle Simonal,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Divine Comedy,
Banda Bassotti,
Althea and Donna,
Maleditus Sound,
Siglo XX,
Jeff Lynne,
Stiv Bators,
Tomorrow,
Joy Division,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Wells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yaz,
Quadrant,
Jimmy McGriff,
Panda Bear,
DJ Style,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brass Construction,
Faraquet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.