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 Pakistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tomorrow to the techno 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Soft Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fatback Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
Moebius,
Blancmange,
Jeff Lynne,
the Association,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
Steve Hackett,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Howard Jones,
Pierre Henry,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Minny Pops,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears,
Soul II Soul,
Suburban Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Iggy Pop,
Matthew Bourne,
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Boredoms,
Eric Dolphy,
Alice Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Rhythm & Sound,
Shoche,
Livin' Joy,
Charles Mingus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun City Girls,
EPMD,
The Durutti Column,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
Joey Negro,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.