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 Angola and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Hashim to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
X-101,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Dave Gahan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Rapeman,
Ossler,
Oneida,
Crooked Eye,
Popol Vuh,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Kenny Larkin,
The Durutti Column,
Jawbox,
Bob Dylan,
Main Source,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Susan Cadogan,
Crime,
Bobby Sherman,
Q and Not U,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lyres,
the Association,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
K-Klass,
Fela Kuti,
MDC,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
The Move,
the Human League,
Parry Music,
Soul II Soul,
Maurizio,
The Vogues,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Wake,
Little Man,
Vainqueur,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.