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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Motions to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Thompson Twins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Mantronix,
Andrew Hill,
The American Breed,
The Mojo Men,
8 Eyed Spy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Groovy Waters,
Jacob Miller,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Ice-T,
Morten Harket,
The Searchers,
Bill Near,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Misunderstood,
Maleditus Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
Bootsy Collins,
Rakim,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
Fugazi,
Los Fastidios,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erykah Badu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
MDC,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
Das Ding,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agent Orange,
Monks,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Guru Guru,
Minutemen,
Eddi Front,
These Immortal Souls,
the Association,
Jawbox,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.