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 Japan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Circle Jerks to the grime 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Leaves,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grey Daturas,
The Monochrome Set,
Pierre Henry,
The Star Department,
Wings,
Wasted Youth,
Make Up,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bootsy Collins,
Wire,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ituana,
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Desert Stars,
X-101,
Bizarre Inc.,
World's Most,
Animal Collective,
The Selecter,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fall,
Nas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rod Modell,
Circle Jerks,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kayak,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Vogues,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Basic Channel,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sixth Finger,
Royal Trux,
Cybotron,
The Offenders,
The Last Poets,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.