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 Montenegro and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Roy Ayers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Unrelated Segments,
Young Marble Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
David McCallum,
Monolake,
Magma,
the Slits,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
The Dirtbombs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
MDC,
The American Breed,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
The Count Five,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barry Ungar,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül,
Spoonie Gee,
Animal Collective,
Shoche,
Sister Nancy,
Ultravox,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terry Callier,
Funkadelic,
Mad Mike,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
Main Source,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arab on Radar,
The Durutti Column,
Rekid,
Q65,
Newcleus,
Fear,
Zapp,
Pulsallama,
Sarah Menescal,
Lyres,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.