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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rock 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Simply Red,
Pantytec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neu!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Make Up,
Drive Like Jehu,
Saccharine Trust,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Whodini,
The Star Department,
Monolake,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fall,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
Slick Rick,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Mad Mike,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Model 500,
Susan Cadogan,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David Axelrod,
Slave,
Carl Craig,
Kayak,
Television,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Junior Murvin,
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
Jandek,
The Seeds,
Bad Manners,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minor Threat,
Bronski Beat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.