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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare 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 The Misunderstood to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The American Breed,
Glambeats Corp.,
K-Klass,
The Monochrome Set,
Brothers Johnson,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Soul II Soul,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
10cc,
Slick Rick,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Oblivians,
Outsiders,
Byron Stingily,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hot Snakes,
KRS-One,
Reuben Wilson,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skarface,
Josef K,
Jerry's Kids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Index,
The Mojo Men,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scion,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nirvana,
Zapp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
UT,
Make Up,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.