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 Cameroon and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 John Foxx to the funk 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Second Layer,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
Aural Exciters,
The Blues Magoos,
Ken Boothe,
Delta 5,
Sandy B,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Stooges,
Ponytail,
the Sonics,
Derrick May,
Rakim,
China Crisis,
MDC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Slick Rick,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arab on Radar,
Pussy Galore,
Hoover,
Main Source,
Essential Logic,
AZ,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeff Lynne,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Colin Newman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Searchers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flash Fearless,
The Vogues,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Interpol,
Q65,
Spoonie Gee,
Chris Corsano,
Ten City,
Qualms,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.