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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Fatback Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cure,
Bobby Sherman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Machine,
Crime,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun City Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scratch Acid,
Q65,
Banda Bassotti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald,
the Slits,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soul II Soul,
The Saints,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
The Gories,
Fugazi,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
EPMD,
Maleditus Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Nico,
The Gap Band,
The Toasters,
X-Ray Spex,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
Lungfish,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
10cc,
The Stooges,
The Move,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Section 25,
Silicon Teens,
Amon Düül,
Skarface,
Porter Ricks,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
Au Pairs,
The Gladiators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radio Birdman,
Bluetip,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
June Days,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.