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 Slovenia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bob Dylan to the rock 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Index,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Sherman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Talk Talk,
New York Dolls,
Supertramp,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Divine Comedy,
This Heat,
Los Fastidios,
Lyres,
Bush Tetras,
Organ,
The Buckinghams,
The Blues Magoos,
A Certain Ratio,
JFA,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Sister Nancy,
Blossom Toes,
Hot Snakes,
Junior Murvin,
OOIOO,
The Pop Group,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Max Romeo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Unwound,
Siglo XX,
Morten Harket,
Pierre Henry,
Minny Pops,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
Sarah Menescal,
Oneida,
Easy Going,
Angry Samoans,
The Walker Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.