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 Bolivia and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Loose Ends to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Todd Rundgren,
Ken Boothe,
Harmonia,
The Move,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Leaves,
DNA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gladiators,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
The Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Interpol,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brand Nubian,
The Buckinghams,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cowsills,
Youth Brigade,
The Residents,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Franke,
Michelle Simonal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Crime,
Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Thee Headcoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Charles Mingus,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Byron Stingily,
The Associates,
UT,
The Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Fat Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.