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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camouflage to the disco 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Talk Talk,
Al Stewart,
Howard Jones,
Chrome,
Boredoms,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
Boz Scaggs,
Brass Construction,
Dennis Brown,
Hashim,
Unwound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Shoche,
Gerry Rafferty,
Make Up,
Marc Almond,
The Seeds,
Black Bananas,
Ludus,
Young Marble Giants,
Newcleus,
Chris Corsano,
The Gladiators,
a-ha,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stockholm Monsters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faust,
Soft Cell,
MC5,
Television Personalities,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oblivians,
Quantec,
Soul II Soul,
Bluetip,
Grey Daturas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
David McCallum,
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
Avey Tare,
The Litter,
Underground Resistance,
Gong,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.