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 Guyana and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wings to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Fortunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
Y Pants,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wally Richardson,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Sam Rivers,
Whodini,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Janne Schatter,
10cc,
Moebius,
New York Dolls,
Television,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Mandrill,
The Slits,
Ituana,
Gang Green,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Das Ding,
Bob Dylan,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
Terrestrial Tones,
The New Christs,
Ohio Players,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Bronski Beat,
Jeff Lynne,
Sarah Menescal,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
Mantronix,
Robert Görl,
The Birthday Party,
Erykah Badu,
The Five Americans,
Malaria!,
Donny Hathaway,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.