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 Canada and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ken Boothe to the disco 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Organ,
The Motions,
Accadde A,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q65,
Pylon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siglo XX,
Kurtis Blow,
Skriet,
Amazonics,
Patti Smith,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
Peter & Gordon,
The Leaves,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Lindisfarne,
A Certain Ratio,
Cluster,
Wings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
Pulsallama,
Nirvana,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Faraquet,
Al Stewart,
Soulsonic Force,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
The Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
Joensuu 1685,
the Slits,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.