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 Bahamas and from Woodstock.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 a-ha to the electroclash 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
The Shadows of Knight,
Juan Atkins,
Joey Negro,
Flipper,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Velvet Underground,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
Albert Ayler,
L. Decosne,
Steve Hackett,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Roxy Music,
Thompson Twins,
The Beau Brummels,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Yusef Lateef,
Grey Daturas,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
The Leaves,
Icehouse,
Todd Rundgren,
Bad Manners,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
kango's stein massive,
Amazonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Searchers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
World's Most,
Skarface,
Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Silicon Teens,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.