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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '50s 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 Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Moody Blues,
The Cure,
The Fugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mission of Burma,
Index,
Gang Green,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
K-Klass,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
Metal Thangz,
The Blues Magoos,
LL Cool J,
Con Funk Shun,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
Joyce Sims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
Nirvana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Easy Going,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Görl,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Scratch Acid,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Ohio Players,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gladiators,
Nico,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.