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 Uzbekistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Lungfish to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Trojans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young,
Cheater Slicks,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
Shuggie Otis,
Josef K,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Au Pairs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Almond,
The Birthday Party,
cv313,
Bizarre Inc.,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mark Hollis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Half Japanese,
Ronan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
Bauhaus,
Marvin Gaye,
Rekid,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
Rod Modell,
Grauzone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joe Smooth,
Chrome,
Joey Negro,
Wolf Eyes,
Eurythmics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rites of Spring,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
Kaleidoscope,
Khruangbin,
Eden Ahbez,
Kayak,
The Grass Roots,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.