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 Madagascar and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
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 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 Underground Resistance 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Subhumans,
Ultravox,
Bad Manners,
The Monochrome Set,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Tim Buckley,
Eden Ahbez,
Stereo Dub,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Das Ding,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
Brand Nubian,
The Raincoats,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
Fela Kuti,
Blossom Toes,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
PIL,
Niagra,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soul II Soul,
Warren Ellis,
Icehouse,
Roxette,
The Slits,
Panda Bear,
Hot Snakes,
Lucky Dragons,
The Saints,
Erykah Badu,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Tremeloes,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
Jeff Lynne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.