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 South Sudan and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Johnny Clarke to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
Deadbeat,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Michelle Simonal,
Model 500,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wire,
Crash Course in Science,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Slave,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
L. Decosne,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
John Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
The Walker Brothers,
Simply Red,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
Tom Boy,
the Germs,
John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül,
Depeche Mode,
Cluster,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Order,
Marmalade,
The Saints,
New York Dolls,
Prince Buster,
The Fire Engines,
Half Japanese,
Porter Ricks,
Wings,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
KRS-One,
Hoover,
Television Personalities,
Scientists,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.