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 Ukraine 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Swans to the disco 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Gang Starr,
Pagans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Severed Heads,
Ornette Coleman,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Man Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
Camberwell Now,
Nation of Ulysses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tres Demented,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Porter Ricks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Stetsasonic,
Don Cherry,
Symarip,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gap Band,
The Pretty Things,
Nik Kershaw,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
David Axelrod,
Sister Nancy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The American Breed,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Smooth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
The Young Rascals,
Anthony Braxton,
T. Rex,
Anakelly,
Sandy B,
The Buckinghams,
Thompson Twins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Max Romeo,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.