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 Senegal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Duran Duran,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Severed Heads,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
Parry Music,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
Groovy Waters,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Machine,
Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Enemy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun Ra,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
The Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Pole,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
Magma,
The Kinks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Fraelich,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Nils Olav,
Neu!,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Style,
The Music Machine,
Bill Wells,
Los Fastidios,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suicide,
Average White Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.