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 Bahamas and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Alphaville to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum,
DJ Sneak,
The Smiths,
The Birthday Party,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deakin,
Sight & Sound,
The Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Altered Images,
The Fugs,
The Cowsills,
Barrington Levy,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Index,
B.T. Express,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette,
Whodini,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
Grauzone,
Flipper,
Matthew Bourne,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fugazi,
a-ha,
Dual Sessions,
Aural Exciters,
A Certain Ratio,
LL Cool J,
The Gories,
The Evens,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
Juan Atkins,
Howard Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
Maleditus Sound,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.