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 Finland and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Thompson Twins,
Man Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
Marmalade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Desert Stars,
Camouflage,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Infiniti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
Tim Buckley,
The Offenders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dennis Brown,
Duran Duran,
Los Fastidios,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doors,
Rekid,
Main Source,
Dark Day,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
CMW,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Josef K,
Swans,
The Busters,
New Order,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
Carl Craig,
Isaac Hayes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Starr,
Toni Rubio,
Neil Young,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mr. Review,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ponytail,
LL Cool J,
Graham Central Station,
Marine Girls,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.