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 Israel and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marcia Griffiths to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Sherman,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Christie,
Soul II Soul,
Joe Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Smog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Golliwogs,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Donny Hathaway,
Gregory Isaacs,
Average White Band,
Bang On A Can,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Excepter,
Organ,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Swell Maps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Motions,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Kaleidoscope,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Finger,
Newcleus,
Spoonie Gee,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Erasure,
Tears for Fears,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.