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 South Sudan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Lakeside to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Kinks,
Hasil Adkins,
B.T. Express,
Underground Resistance,
Hashim,
Sight & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
The Blues Magoos,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gun Club,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Quadrant,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dawn Penn,
Pantytec,
Donny Hathaway,
Youth Brigade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
The Raincoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thee Headcoats,
Sällskapet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Urselle,
Prince Buster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ossler,
The Techniques,
Lee Hazlewood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cluster,
The Five Americans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Enemy,
Stiv Bators,
Tom Boy,
10cc,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Lakeside,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rufus Thomas,
The Misunderstood,
Inner City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.