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 Denmark and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed,
Fugazi,
Sugar Minott,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Swell Maps,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Carl Craig,
Von Mondo,
Nico,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Oblivians,
The Shadows of Knight,
JFA,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Dark Day,
Susan Cadogan,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Pretty Things,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Public Image Ltd.,
Warren Ellis,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Toni Rubio,
Peter & Gordon,
10cc,
Soft Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Little Man,
La Düsseldorf,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barry Ungar,
Crime,
Pole,
Andrew Hill,
Lindisfarne,
Peter and Kerry,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Black Dice,
Heaven 17,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.