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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
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 spring reverb 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Mandrill,
Don Cherry,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Gong,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang of Four,
the Swans,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
Neu!,
Jerry's Kids,
World's Most,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sister Nancy,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed,
Nirvana,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
Jacob Miller,
Section 25,
Vainqueur,
Dave Gahan,
Cluster,
Ituana,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Duran Duran,
Main Source,
Qualms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Letta Mbulu,
The Five Americans,
Derrick Morgan,
Porter Ricks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül II,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
AZ,
Laurel Aitken,
Niagra,
the Slits,
cv313,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Görl,
Ludus,
Masters at Work,
The Walker Brothers,
F. McDonald,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.