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 El Salvador and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fugazi to the punk 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fear,
Graham Central Station,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cymande,
Black Sheep,
The Index,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
Man Parrish,
The Birthday Party,
Accadde A,
AZ,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
Khruangbin,
Black Pus,
Lyres,
Laurel Aitken,
The Wake,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fall,
Kayak,
Zero Boys,
PIL,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls,
Jerry's Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Dave Gahan,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
Yazoo,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
Erasure,
Lungfish,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.