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 Equatorial Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Procol Harum to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Morten Harket,
The Mummies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dead C,
Cluster,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
The Gun Club,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thompson Twins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harmonia,
Mission of Burma,
Joensuu 1685,
the Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
The Birthday Party,
The Remains,
Juan Atkins,
Tommy Roe,
John Holt,
Deepchord,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
Pulsallama,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacob Miller,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
The Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
World's Most,
Public Enemy,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dead Boys,
Radiohead,
Alison Limerick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
The Leaves,
Make Up,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.