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 Andorra and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Velvet Underground to the techno 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Lyres,
Derrick May,
Matthew Halsall,
The Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
The Neon Judgement,
Maurizio,
Angry Samoans,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Sneak,
Piero Umiliani,
Sandy B,
Stereo Dub,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mandrill,
T.S.O.L.,
Warsaw,
Pere Ubu,
Black Moon,
Essential Logic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Glambeats Corp.,
10cc,
Oneida,
Gong,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
Janne Schatter,
The Pretty Things,
Tim Buckley,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Khruangbin,
Michelle Simonal,
Metal Thangz,
The Last Poets,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker,
Ultra Naté,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed,
Television,
Faust,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
Lungfish,
Sarah Menescal,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.