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 Togo and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Freddie Wadling to the funk 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Deepchord,
Ronan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
The Evens,
Lyres,
The Gap Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wolf Eyes,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
Bluetip,
Sandy B,
Lalann,
Sex Pistols,
Motorama,
Terry Callier,
Byron Stingily,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unwound,
Model 500,
AZ,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Livin' Joy,
Nick Fraelich,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra,
cv313,
Tom Boy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Minutemen,
Skriet,
Godley & Creme,
Buzzcocks,
Wire,
Saccharine Trust,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Make Up,
Joyce Sims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ponytail,
Bill Near,
Delta 5,
Faust,
Camouflage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Symarip,
Sparks,
Gang Green,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.