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 Mexico and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 DNA to the punk 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Sight & Sound,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
Lower 48,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
Neu!,
Maurizio,
Sällskapet,
The Associates,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABC,
Can,
The New Christs,
Aural Exciters,
Ice-T,
Yellowson,
David Bowie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minutemen,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Average White Band,
Black Flag,
The Smoke,
Qualms,
Godley & Creme,
Tom Boy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun City Girls,
Swans,
The Raincoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Real Kids,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Japan,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Banda Bassotti,
Theoretical Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Fatback Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
Schoolly D,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.