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 Portugal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Nile Rodgers 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 kango's stein massive to the crunk 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Whodini,
Barrington Levy,
Matthew Halsall,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arcadia,
Joy Division,
Rakim,
The Trojans,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Lynne,
Metal Thangz,
Flash Fearless,
cv313,
Nas,
Pantytec,
Babytalk,
New York Dolls,
MC5,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Lungfish,
Urselle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Adolescents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Piero Umiliani,
Loose Ends,
Spandau Ballet,
FM Einheit,
ABBA,
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Gun Club,
Peter and Kerry,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.