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 Mali and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Jeru the Damaja,
Erykah Badu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Can,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantaleimon,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mission of Burma,
Sight & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Henry Cow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vainqueur,
Moss Icon,
Thompson Twins,
The Star Department,
Joe Finger,
Jacques Brel,
Freddie Wadling,
Toni Rubio,
Technova,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Qualms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Half Japanese,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gladiators,
Mo-Dettes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Buckinghams,
Matthew Halsall,
Michelle Simonal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Cheater Slicks,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
Mantronix,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra,
The Invisible,
The Detroit Cobras,
New York Dolls,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.