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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Agitation Free to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Ultravox,
Brand Nubian,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
Babytalk,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Parry Music,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Albert Ayler,
Kurtis Blow,
Television Personalities,
Pet Shop Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Copeland,
Tears for Fears,
Minutemen,
Maurizio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
Barrington Levy,
Tres Demented,
Symarip,
Nico,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pulsallama,
Nas,
In Retrospect,
Buzzcocks,
Soft Machine,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxy Music,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Kaleidoscope,
MC5,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
The Smoke,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.