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 Nicaragua and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 The Associates to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Stetsasonic,
Joey Negro,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
Section 25,
Agent Orange,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cal Tjader,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
Archie Shepp,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
Darondo,
Lakeside,
The Gladiators,
Talk Talk,
Kenny Larkin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magma,
Scrapy,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
Josef K,
Goldenarms,
The Beau Brummels,
The Neon Judgement,
Groovy Waters,
The Fugs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Babytalk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sound Behaviour,
Faust,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
ABBA,
Brass Construction,
The Pop Group,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Lydon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nik Kershaw,
Blossom Toes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Audionom,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boz Scaggs,
Sandy B,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.