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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Subhumans to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Stetsasonic,
T. Rex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Görl,
L. Decosne,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Procol Harum,
Nico,
Motorama,
Flipper,
Amon Düül,
David Bowie,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare,
Interpol,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
Neil Young,
Unrelated Segments,
Blossom Toes,
Mandrill,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Mad Mike,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Anakelly,
Althea and Donna,
Aural Exciters,
Letta Mbulu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Iggy Pop,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Matthew Halsall,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June Days,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
The Gories,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smiths,
This Heat,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.