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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Görl to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris Corsano,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Finger,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terry Callier,
Tom Boy,
Harmonia,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Fugazi,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
Godley & Creme,
Wasted Youth,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gong,
Joe Smooth,
Faraquet,
Monks,
The Star Department,
Goldenarms,
Josef K,
The Smiths,
Camouflage,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül II,
Icehouse,
Lyres,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Bourne,
Nick Fraelich,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
T.S.O.L.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radio Birdman,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siglo XX,
Leonard Cohen,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.