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 Poland 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Blues Magoos,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
Ornette Coleman,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
Letta Mbulu,
Monks,
Smog,
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
Amon Düül II,
Easy Going,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lungfish,
Jacob Miller,
Scan 7,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Stereo Dub,
DJ Sneak,
Banda Bassotti,
Crooked Eye,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Darondo,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
Alton Ellis,
Eli Mardock,
Anakelly,
Dennis Brown,
Country Teasers,
Procol Harum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.