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 Djibouti and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Motions to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Smiths,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
The Smoke,
Surgeon,
Spandau Ballet,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
Josef K,
Franke,
Spoonie Gee,
Nirvana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alice Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Intrusion,
Nick Fraelich,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ituana,
David Axelrod,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers,
Inner City,
Masters at Work,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Japan,
Steve Hackett,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
Altered Images,
Unrelated Segments,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
China Crisis,
Con Funk Shun,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Patti Smith,
Vladislav Delay,
Flash Fearless,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
Pantytec,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Freddie Wadling,
Lyres,
The Sound,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.