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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
China Crisis,
Trumans Water,
New York Dolls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Bar-Kays,
Spandau Ballet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Unwound,
Supertramp,
Cluster,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground,
The Detroit Cobras,
Derrick May,
June Days,
Erasure,
Chris Corsano,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
UT,
The Standells,
Janne Schatter,
Youth Brigade,
Eve St. Jones,
Marine Girls,
The Raincoats,
DNA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Monks,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fat Boys,
Technova,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Byrd,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
Bizarre Inc.,
Funky Four + One,
Connie Case,
Oblivians,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.