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 Burkina and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Birthday Party to the grime 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
The Martian,
Q65,
This Heat,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Loose Ends,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marine Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mojo Men,
Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barbara Tucker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sandy B,
Nas,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
Maurizio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
Pagans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
June Days,
Main Source,
DNA,
a-ha,
Grey Daturas,
Buzzcocks,
Cal Tjader,
Minnie Riperton,
Alton Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slick Rick,
Gang of Four,
The Raincoats,
The Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.