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 Zimbabwe and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 Sonny Sharrock to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Walker Brothers,
Slave,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
Pantytec,
Eddi Front,
Jeff Mills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mr. Review,
Ponytail,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
EPMD,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Colin Newman,
Infiniti,
Can,
Arab on Radar,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gories,
Lyres,
Morten Harket,
Lower 48,
The Smiths,
Blancmange,
The Seeds,
Derrick May,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Skaos,
ABC,
Y Pants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
a-ha,
Gregory Isaacs,
Youth Brigade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Saccharine Trust,
Young Marble Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
The Black Dice,
Gang Green,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
Althea and Donna,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.