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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 crunk 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Durutti Column,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
Young Marble Giants,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
Sällskapet,
Magazine,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxette,
ABC,
Television,
Animal Collective,
Ponytail,
Jeru the Damaja,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kerri Chandler,
Radiohead,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
Supertramp,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Names,
the Swans,
Man Parrish,
The Offenders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visage,
R.M.O.,
Bad Manners,
Hashim,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
Minnie Riperton,
Average White Band,
The Evens,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Audionom,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.