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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
The American Breed,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
ABC,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
New York Dolls,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Enemy,
The Music Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Almond,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
Zero Boys,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nirvana,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Loose Ends,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amon Düül II,
The Human League,
Ultravox,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ronan,
Simply Red,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
cv313,
June Days,
Inner City,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Görl,
The United States of America,
Eurythmics,
Roxy Music,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.