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 Jordan and from Tokyo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Model 500 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Newcleus,
The Tremeloes,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultravox,
Maleditus Sound,
Fear,
Yellowson,
Deepchord,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
Negative Approach,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Qualms,
Roger Hodgson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Raincoats,
China Crisis,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Niagra,
The Golliwogs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Albert Ayler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABC,
Minnie Riperton,
Fugazi,
New Age Steppers,
The Human League,
10cc,
Marc Almond,
Subhumans,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Stooges,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.