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 Uganda and from Cairo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Pole to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Eve St. Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sonics,
Lindisfarne,
The Gories,
Second Layer,
Eric Copeland,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quantec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Goldenarms,
The Smoke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eden Ahbez,
The Blackbyrds,
Audionom,
Wally Richardson,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Terry Callier,
Surgeon,
Pere Ubu,
Gong,
Absolute Body Control,
Kurtis Blow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cramps,
Chris & Cosey,
Hashim,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
Derrick May,
Ituana,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erykah Badu,
Dave Gahan,
Aaron Thompson,
David Bowie,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
The Star Department,
Japan,
Ken Boothe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Seeds,
Scientists,
Severed Heads,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pop Group,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.