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 Bulgaria and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Banda Bassotti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Smog,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Dawn Penn,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Rosa Yemen,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lakeside,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Matthew Halsall,
The Trojans,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Ultra Naté,
the Human League,
The Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Cybotron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Tomorrow,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Country Teasers,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun City Girls,
Roxy Music,
Severed Heads,
Mark Hollis,
Arab on Radar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Adolescents,
The Happenings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scan 7,
Warsaw,
Cluster,
The Slackers,
Index,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.