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 Azerbaijan and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Juan Atkins to the electroclash 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Jandek,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Rekid,
Faust,
Desert Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Detroit Cobras,
AZ,
Tres Demented,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ice-T,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brand Nubian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
The Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Rundgren,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Beau Brummels,
Mantronix,
The Gap Band,
Hashim,
Grauzone,
10cc,
Echospace,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
The Monochrome Set,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Last Poets,
Roxette,
The Star Department,
Kayak,
Eric Dolphy,
FM Einheit,
Pole,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Simply Red,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deakin,
the Normal,
The Happenings,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Pere Ubu,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.