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 Sweden and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
John Holt,
Crime,
The Divine Comedy,
T. Rex,
Technova,
Smog,
The Associates,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
Max Romeo,
Von Mondo,
Al Stewart,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soulsonic Force,
Desert Stars,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
Simply Red,
Danielle Patucci,
Kayak,
10cc,
The Count Five,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
ABBA,
Faust,
Ludus,
The Slits,
The Techniques,
Rufus Thomas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heaven 17,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
Tom Boy,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Shuggie Otis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rites of Spring,
Gang of Four,
The Pop Group,
The United States of America,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slackers,
Deakin,
The Sonics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jeff Lynne,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.