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 Libya and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Spandau Ballet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Dave Gahan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
cv313,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
Lungfish,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
Talk Talk,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Radiohead,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New Age Steppers,
Patti Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grey Daturas,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rekid,
Minnie Riperton,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Janne Schatter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oneida,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Max Romeo,
Banda Bassotti,
Clear Light,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Martian,
The Invisible,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Visage,
Pere Ubu,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.