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 Lesotho and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Iggy Pop to the grime 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Fania All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
John Holt,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warsaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boredoms,
Darondo,
The Trojans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
One Last Wish,
Archie Shepp,
Section 25,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Neon Judgement,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
The Moleskins,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rapeman,
Japan,
Jacob Miller,
DNA,
The Remains,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
Nico,
Supertramp,
Henry Cow,
The Sonics,
Agent Orange,
The Kinks,
Mars,
Kaleidoscope,
Mary Jane Girls,
World's Most,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Stooges,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Modern Lovers,
cv313,
David Bowie,
Absolute Body Control,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.