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 Panama and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugs to the rock 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Letta Mbulu,
A Certain Ratio,
the Germs,
Liliput,
Rotary Connection,
The Names,
The Trojans,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
Skaos,
DNA,
The J.B.'s,
Los Fastidios,
Aloha Tigers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nas,
Zapp,
Terry Callier,
John Lydon,
Mantronix,
Lakeside,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Jeff Mills,
Jawbox,
The Red Krayola,
Ronnie Foster,
Roxette,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yaz,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cramps,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
Godley & Creme,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Normal,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
EPMD,
The Cowsills,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Angels of Light,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.