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 Samoa and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
the Human League,
Unwound,
The Sound,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
Kenny Larkin,
The Blackbyrds,
Reagan Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Au Pairs,
Ornette Coleman,
Kaleidoscope,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Hood,
Hardrive,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Mars,
DJ Style,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kurtis Blow,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
the Swans,
Ituana,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Lynne,
The New Christs,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
10cc,
Juan Atkins,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
The Last Poets,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.