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 Czech Republic and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minnie Riperton 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swell Maps,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fugazi,
Prince Buster,
Adolescents,
PIL,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
The United States of America,
Yaz,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vainqueur,
Althea and Donna,
Stockholm Monsters,
Symarip,
Sound Behaviour,
Dennis Brown,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agitation Free,
Patti Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
Sight & Sound,
The Standells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Altered Images,
Drexciya,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Bill Wells,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
10cc,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
Country Teasers,
Don Cherry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gregory Isaacs,
Khruangbin,
Con Funk Shun,
Juan Atkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.