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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the rap 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Deepchord,
Infiniti,
Marc Almond,
The Names,
Wings,
EPMD,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
Severed Heads,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Young Marble Giants,
Lungfish,
Loose Ends,
Radiohead,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Minnie Riperton,
Depeche Mode,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
the Germs,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers,
The Moody Blues,
Rekid,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Womack,
Black Moon,
Warren Ellis,
the Swans,
Unwound,
Hasil Adkins,
Main Source,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter and Kerry,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gun Club,
The Real Kids,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
Babytalk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Iggy Pop,
Deakin,
Television Personalities,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
The Index,
Ossler,
Rufus Thomas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alphaville,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.