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 Seychelles and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Spoonie Gee to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Deepchord,
Urselle,
Fear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Peter and Kerry,
a-ha,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harry Pussy,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
L. Decosne,
Stereo Dub,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Slits,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
Lungfish,
Todd Terry,
John Lydon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sällskapet,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Khruangbin,
Nas,
Nik Kershaw,
Fad Gadget,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
Talk Talk,
Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crash Course in Science,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
Minor Threat,
Patti Smith,
Roxy Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joyce Sims,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.