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 India and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Loose Ends to the crunk 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
The Velvet Underground,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
China Crisis,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Fad Gadget,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
Derrick May,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nirvana,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lucky Dragons,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
Alton Ellis,
Smog,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
K-Klass,
Severed Heads,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Sonics,
Radiohead,
ABC,
Average White Band,
Clear Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up,
Neu!,
Shoche,
New Order,
Scientists,
T. Rex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Junior Murvin,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.