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 Jamaica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 grunge 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Drexciya,
Fluxion,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Bar-Kays,
The Tremeloes,
Au Pairs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
David McCallum,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Metal Thangz,
The Wake,
Hardrive,
Brass Construction,
The Fuzztones,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Skatalites,
Aswad,
Infiniti,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cal Tjader,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yellowson,
These Immortal Souls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gap Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terry Callier,
The Move,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Soft Cell,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonic Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Roger Hodgson,
Banda Bassotti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
Silicon Teens,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.