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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Infiniti,
The Offenders,
Television,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Adolescents,
Nik Kershaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
Eden Ahbez,
Mo-Dettes,
Newcleus,
Bill Near,
Heaven 17,
Terry Callier,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
Deakin,
The Stooges,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ronan,
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Ralphi Rosario,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
H. Thieme,
Black Flag,
Nirvana,
Electric Prunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sugar Minott,
The Doors,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nas,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Technova,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.