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 Australia and from Lyon.
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 Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Vogues to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Shuggie Otis,
Wire,
Fat Boys,
The Litter,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Byrd,
Harmonia,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Görl,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Faust,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Sherman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Josef K,
Easy Going,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Cluster,
Bluetip,
UT,
Brass Construction,
Marmalade,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Green,
Jandek,
Ituana,
The Pretty Things,
Maurizio,
Althea and Donna,
Sun City Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Black Moon,
Chris & Cosey,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Accadde A,
Joy Division,
Interpol,
Andrew Hill,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.