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 United States and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Durutti Column 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Oneida,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gladiators,
Technova,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dual Sessions,
the Bar-Kays,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
Suicide,
Cameo,
Dead Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
In Retrospect,
Brick,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yusef Lateef,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
China Crisis,
La Düsseldorf,
Sound Behaviour,
Agent Orange,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
The Saints,
Silicon Teens,
the Association,
Fluxion,
The Golliwogs,
Sällskapet,
Skarface,
The Moody Blues,
Jeff Mills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare,
Soulsonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Normal,
Joensuu 1685,
Harmonia,
The American Breed,
The Motions,
Wings,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.