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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tom Boy to the dance 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Idris Muhammad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MDC,
Brand Nubian,
The Trojans,
Yaz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Eli Mardock,
Sam Rivers,
The Gun Club,
Robert Wyatt,
Fear,
Joe Finger,
Nas,
Infiniti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
The Walker Brothers,
Wally Richardson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Easy Going,
Moebius,
Sight & Sound,
Lungfish,
Barbara Tucker,
John Cale,
Rites of Spring,
Tears for Fears,
Faust,
The Happenings,
Archie Shepp,
cv313,
Sonic Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
John Coltrane,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agitation Free,
Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
Brick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Glambeats Corp.,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Pus,
Bootsy Collins,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.