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 Kosovo and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Music Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
the Human League,
Erykah Badu,
June of 44,
The Gap Band,
Arab on Radar,
Terry Callier,
Bill Near,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Aural Exciters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Grauzone,
a-ha,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pop Group,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mission of Burma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Japan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
48th St. Collective,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
Erasure,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
E-Dancer,
Reagan Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rapeman,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.