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 Moldova and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
The Real Kids,
Television,
David Axelrod,
Dorothy Ashby,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
FM Einheit,
Symarip,
kango's stein massive,
Black Bananas,
The Smiths,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Hoover,
Bill Wells,
Cal Tjader,
cv313,
Dennis Brown,
Marc Almond,
Nick Fraelich,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
U.S. Maple,
Von Mondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints,
48th St. Collective,
Qualms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gun Club,
Alton Ellis,
Tres Demented,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rapeman,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hasil Adkins,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Crime,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Grey Daturas,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.