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 Chile and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
T. Rex,
The New Christs,
The American Breed,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
Mars,
June Days,
Cluster,
Minor Threat,
48th St. Collective,
Suburban Knight,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeff Lynne,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Joensuu 1685,
Fatback Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fuzztones,
Depeche Mode,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ten City,
The Count Five,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
Maleditus Sound,
Mantronix,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacob Miller,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brothers Johnson,
the Bar-Kays,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Kas Product,
Marmalade,
Morten Harket,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Davy DMX,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.