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 Liberia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the jazz 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Misunderstood,
The Victims,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Young Marble Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
Ohio Players,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Wyatt,
CMW,
Mars,
Quadrant,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Sherman,
Sarah Menescal,
The Count Five,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultra Naté,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Pantaleimon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
Y Pants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
PIL,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
Arcadia,
Jacques Brel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hardrive,
The Slackers,
The Motions,
Junior Murvin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maurizio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
Average White Band,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
Trumans Water,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.