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 Chile and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
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 guitar 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 Byron Stingily to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Erykah Badu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Toni Rubio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monks,
Robert Görl,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Graham Central Station,
The J.B.'s,
Ronnie Foster,
Dennis Brown,
Brand Nubian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül II,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Traffic Nightmare,
Excepter,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
the Swans,
Bad Manners,
E-Dancer,
The Gun Club,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Lynne,
Brass Construction,
The Golliwogs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dark Day,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tim Buckley,
Schoolly D,
Thee Headcoats,
Mission of Burma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Starr,
Grey Daturas,
Infiniti,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Smog,
Ronan,
Metal Thangz,
JFA,
Dead Boys,
Tears for Fears,
New York Dolls,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wally Richardson,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.