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 Kenya and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gastr Del Sol 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
Oneida,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brass Construction,
Cybotron,
The Slackers,
The Gun Club,
Wire,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
Silicon Teens,
Wally Richardson,
the Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
Skarface,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joensuu 1685,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Make Up,
Organ,
Zapp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
Desert Stars,
The Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Index,
Procol Harum,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Selecter,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
Kerri Chandler,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.