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 Cameroon and from London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 June Days to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
Icehouse,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Thompson Twins,
Tom Boy,
Josef K,
Eric Copeland,
Dave Gahan,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
Deepchord,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Raincoats,
The Fortunes,
The New Christs,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Eden Ahbez,
Juan Atkins,
Marine Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ten City,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Goldenarms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kaleidoscope,
The Birthday Party,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Al Stewart,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Bananas,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
ABBA,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.