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 Malaysia and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
Fad Gadget,
Spandau Ballet,
The Star Department,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pagans,
The Neon Judgement,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra,
The Divine Comedy,
New Order,
Joey Negro,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
Steve Hackett,
The Dirtbombs,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
John Cale,
Wire,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yaz,
The Gun Club,
Sun City Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Rites of Spring,
Scientists,
Icehouse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Dark Day,
Talk Talk,
Deadbeat,
Quando Quango,
a-ha,
Amon Düül II,
Brand Nubian,
Charles Mingus,
Agitation Free,
The Evens,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.