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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 The Blues Magoos to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra,
June Days,
Bill Near,
The Neon Judgement,
The Move,
Sound Behaviour,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Invisible,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
Leonard Cohen,
The Index,
Cymande,
Curtis Mayfield,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Jacob Miller,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Order,
B.T. Express,
Ice-T,
Maurizio,
Black Flag,
Deepchord,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Danielle Patucci,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The New Christs,
Amazonics,
Y Pants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bad Manners,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blancmange,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fad Gadget,
The Evens,
The Selecter,
Scan 7,
Fatback Band,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
Judy Mowatt,
The Motions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.