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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sarah Menescal to the grunge 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mummies,
Donny Hathaway,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flamin' Groovies,
R.M.O.,
Charles Mingus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
OOIOO,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erykah Badu,
The Fall,
Los Fastidios,
Hasil Adkins,
The Moleskins,
The Martian,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
Gang of Four,
Blossom Toes,
The Moody Blues,
Mr. Review,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skaos,
Scan 7,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Pretty Things,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bush Tetras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh,
The Real Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.