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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Byrd to the jazz 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Altered Images,
Chris Corsano,
Alice Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
Ronan,
Metal Thangz,
Sam Rivers,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick May,
Adolescents,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oblivians,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Can,
Archie Shepp,
The Move,
Main Source,
Judy Mowatt,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pulsallama,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Leaves,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The United States of America,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
The Golliwogs,
Chris & Cosey,
Henry Cow,
the Normal,
Derrick Morgan,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Little Man,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delon & Dalcan,
Warren Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Jeff Lynne,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.