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 Ivory Coast and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Agent Orange,
Khruangbin,
a-ha,
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
The Toasters,
Pylon,
Laurel Aitken,
Zapp,
Nils Olav,
The American Breed,
Robert Hood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter and Kerry,
Roy Ayers,
The Skatalites,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mars,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now,
Man Eating Sloth,
CMW,
Oneida,
Excepter,
New Age Steppers,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roxette,
The Dead C,
Goldenarms,
The Zeros,
Fad Gadget,
Visage,
Graham Central Station,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
Niagra,
Bill Wells,
Thompson Twins,
Stereo Dub,
T.S.O.L.,
Scott Walker,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick May,
Joensuu 1685,
The Evens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Skarface,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.