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 Lesotho and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Ludus,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
Fear,
Unwound,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Copeland,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roxy Music,
Marcia Griffiths,
Con Funk Shun,
Massinfluence,
The J.B.'s,
Funkadelic,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultra Naté,
Tim Buckley,
The Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Lyres,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rotary Connection,
James White and The Blacks,
Neu!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
FM Einheit,
Kas Product,
The Offenders,
Quantec,
The Wake,
Wasted Youth,
The Durutti Column,
Pussy Galore,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Busters,
Todd Rundgren,
CMW,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Ituana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.