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 South Sudan and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 June Days to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agitation Free,
Fear,
Man Parrish,
Cymande,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
New Order,
Television Personalities,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rites of Spring,
Porter Ricks,
Crash Course in Science,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
Khruangbin,
The Five Americans,
Ronnie Foster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rotary Connection,
Mad Mike,
Anakelly,
Circle Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Soul II Soul,
The Neon Judgement,
Barbara Tucker,
Darondo,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
Yellowson,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Wyatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Bourne,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed,
The Doors,
The Velvet Underground,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Associates,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.