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 Peru and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Absolute Body Control to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Severed Heads,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
Ultravox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
The Martian,
Bauhaus,
The Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
Scan 7,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Sister Nancy,
Popol Vuh,
Rosa Yemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Altered Images,
Joey Negro,
Graham Central Station,
Ossler,
Whodini,
David Bowie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
U.S. Maple,
Barrington Levy,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marcia Griffiths,
Carl Craig,
Tommy Roe,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
Robert Wyatt,
Scientists,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Patti Smith,
Cameo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
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.