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 Ivory Coast and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Marmalade to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Cecil Taylor,
Inner City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Certain Ratio,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
Easy Going,
Ronan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Seeds,
Skriet,
Amon Düül,
Althea and Donna,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Last Poets,
The Neon Judgement,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Christie,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slits,
Soul II Soul,
Cluster,
Aaron Thompson,
Masters at Work,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brick,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-Ray Spex,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Nirvana,
Bauhaus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.