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 Antigua and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Salvador and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 The Knickerbockers to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Soft Cell,
Camberwell Now,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
This Heat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Enemy,
John Coltrane,
Ronan,
Liliput,
Jawbox,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Freddie Wadling,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Slits,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
The Monochrome Set,
Television Personalities,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
The Fugs,
Dead Boys,
The Busters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
The Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Martian,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Zero Boys,
Pierre Henry,
The Wake,
Agent Orange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Red Krayola,
Boredoms,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
Inner City,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Babytalk,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.