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 Bahrain and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angels of Light to the jazz 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
Toni Rubio,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Donny Hathaway,
Rufus Thomas,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Supertramp,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
Aloha Tigers,
One Last Wish,
Althea and Donna,
Skriet,
Fear,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Goldenarms,
Masters at Work,
Sun City Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
the Association,
Arcadia,
The Real Kids,
Subhumans,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cramps,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alice Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
The Happenings,
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys,
Ponytail,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
The Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Basic Channel,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.