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 Cameroon 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sandy B to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Danielle Patucci,
John Cale,
The Residents,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
FM Einheit,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Bananas,
Lou Christie,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Sandy B,
A Flock of Seagulls,
D'Angelo,
Jimmy McGriff,
OOIOO,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Robert Görl,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lucky Dragons,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Prunes,
Gong,
X-Ray Spex,
Stiv Bators,
La Düsseldorf,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Quando Quango,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Janne Schatter,
Sun City Girls,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brothers Johnson,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Desert Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.