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 Botswana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 Can 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angry Samoans,
Malaria!,
T. Rex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Pretty Things,
Stiv Bators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
Ponytail,
Sugar Minott,
The Raincoats,
Sister Nancy,
Rufus Thomas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Matthew Bourne,
The Seeds,
MC5,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
UT,
Johnny Clarke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swell Maps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Index,
Robert Hood,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Essential Logic,
The Move,
OOIOO,
Bobby Womack,
Monks,
Negative Approach,
Jimmy McGriff,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Deakin,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.