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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Victims to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barbara Tucker,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Grauzone,
Mark Hollis,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
David McCallum,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Chris & Cosey,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Red Krayola,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Amazonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Hill,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Motorama,
The Smiths,
Glenn Branca,
Warsaw,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blossom Toes,
Joey Negro,
Bang On A Can,
Donald Byrd,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Silicon Teens,
Max Romeo,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Icehouse,
Au Pairs,
Lou Christie,
Faust,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
Sound Behaviour,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.