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 Iceland and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 Ultra Naté to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
K-Klass,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pretty Things,
Kaleidoscope,
Interpol,
Chris & Cosey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
The Fuzztones,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
Deepchord,
Absolute Body Control,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
48th St. Collective,
Todd Terry,
Mark Hollis,
Negative Approach,
E-Dancer,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
Morten Harket,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Mad Mike,
Joe Finger,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
Procol Harum,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scott Walker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Martian,
Cal Tjader,
Black Moon,
The Birthday Party,
H. Thieme,
Jawbox,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.