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 Sudan and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Velvet Underground to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
10cc,
Smog,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eve St. Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Accadde A,
Saccharine Trust,
The Motions,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
Make Up,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
Crooked Eye,
Letta Mbulu,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rotary Connection,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Spoonie Gee,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
Todd Terry,
Stereo Dub,
The Gladiators,
Quando Quango,
The Remains,
ABBA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alton Ellis,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
Index,
The Mojo Men,
Country Teasers,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Finger,
Niagra,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Halsall,
Sarah Menescal,
Animal Collective,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.