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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eve St. Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
The Doors,
F. McDonald,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Soulsonic Force,
David Bowie,
Pere Ubu,
The Tremeloes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
MDC,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Skatalites,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
The Trojans,
Loose Ends,
The Grass Roots,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Knickerbockers,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
World's Most,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Public Image Ltd.,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
The Real Kids,
Babytalk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Unrelated Segments,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Popol Vuh,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Green,
Zapp,
Sun City Girls,
Gang of Four,
Bill Wells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Jawbox,
Mission of Burma,
Josef K,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.