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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
The Buckinghams,
Audionom,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Soul Sonic Force,
Outsiders,
Nas,
Junior Murvin,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Inner City,
Charles Mingus,
AZ,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Angels of Light,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neil Young,
Joe Smooth,
Average White Band,
48th St. Collective,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eve St. Jones,
The Count Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minutemen,
Amon Düül,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Jeff Lynne,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Skriet,
Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Subhumans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
The Zeros,
Thee Headcoats,
Alton Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
Pole,
EPMD,
Niagra,
Q65,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joensuu 1685,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.