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 Kenya and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bizarre Inc. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Wake,
UT,
The Last Poets,
The Knickerbockers,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
Joe Smooth,
The Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
E-Dancer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alphaville,
Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minutemen,
Pole,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joyce Sims,
Terry Callier,
Al Stewart,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
These Immortal Souls,
Sixth Finger,
Skarface,
Man Eating Sloth,
Laurel Aitken,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gories,
The Cramps,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
Main Source,
MDC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Evens,
Piero Umiliani,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
The Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rotary Connection,
The J.B.'s,
Reagan Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.