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 Angola and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Parry Music to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Joe Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
Wally Richardson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
Ohio Players,
Black Moon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mission of Burma,
Roxette,
Rites of Spring,
Charles Mingus,
Stiv Bators,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
The Motions,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Sun Ra,
Fela Kuti,
kango's stein massive,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
Josef K,
Lalo Schifrin,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
Alphaville,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
10cc,
Ralphi Rosario,
Q and Not U,
Bauhaus,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Alice Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
Hoover,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Khruangbin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman,
Cal Tjader,
James White and The Blacks,
the Sonics,
Arthur Verocai,
Little Man,
Babytalk,
Goldenarms,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
Jeff Lynne,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.