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 Lesotho and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Organ to the rock 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Tres Demented,
Dennis Brown,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
The Stooges,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Kayak,
Depeche Mode,
Masters at Work,
Kurtis Blow,
Zapp,
The Saints,
Clear Light,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola,
Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Little Man,
Sun Ra,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hasil Adkins,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Sneak,
Absolute Body Control,
MDC,
Sister Nancy,
Inner City,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
Bad Manners,
Saccharine Trust,
10cc,
Flipper,
DNA,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Velvet Underground,
Sarah Menescal,
Mars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bizarre Inc.,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Crooked Eye,
Moebius,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Procol Harum,
The Motions,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Guru Guru,
Von Mondo,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.