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 Poland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Holger Czukay 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 Flipper to the electroclash 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
Black Flag,
Oneida,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacques Brel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Average White Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
DNA,
Eddi Front,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Symarip,
Magma,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Popol Vuh,
Whodini,
New Age Steppers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Music Machine,
Minor Threat,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Panda Bear,
cv313,
Eric Copeland,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Ken Boothe,
This Heat,
Sun Ra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Dennis Brown,
CMW,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
DJ Sneak,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
Alton Ellis,
Accadde A,
Slave,
Soft Cell,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.