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 Canada and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Lindisfarne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Wells,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monks,
The Associates,
DJ Sneak,
Howard Jones,
Morten Harket,
Sound Behaviour,
Metal Thangz,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Count Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Camouflage,
Nico,
Matthew Halsall,
Reagan Youth,
Ohio Players,
The American Breed,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Symarip,
The Invisible,
Fatback Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
Harpers Bizarre,
Easy Going,
Oblivians,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
Brand Nubian,
The Buckinghams,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Warsaw,
The New Christs,
MDC,
Desert Stars,
This Heat,
The Toasters,
L. Decosne,
Niagra,
Matthew Bourne,
Hot Snakes,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
David McCallum,
Drexciya,
Mr. Review,
T.S.O.L.,
Glenn Branca,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.