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 Albania and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Curtis Mayfield to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yazoo,
Deepchord,
Stereo Dub,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Average White Band,
R.M.O.,
kango's stein massive,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
Ohio Players,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
The New Christs,
X-Ray Spex,
Heaven 17,
Anthony Braxton,
DJ Sneak,
Terry Callier,
Organ,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Invisible,
Groovy Waters,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
Barbara Tucker,
Alphaville,
Chris Corsano,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Junior Murvin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
John Holt,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Monolake,
Reuben Wilson,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Black Flag,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
X-101,
Janne Schatter,
Accadde A,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.