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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lakeside to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeru the Damaja,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
the Bar-Kays,
Sister Nancy,
Goldenarms,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
Das Ding,
Swell Maps,
Brass Construction,
Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Ultravox,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
The Toasters,
Interpol,
Accadde A,
The Evens,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Swans,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed,
Pulsallama,
Barrington Levy,
Rekid,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Busters,
John Coltrane,
The Blackbyrds,
Aswad,
Slave,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deadbeat,
Sugar Minott,
Brick,
One Last Wish,
Tubeway Army,
Colin Newman,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Severed Heads,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
The Stooges,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.