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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roxy Music to the grime 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Arcadia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
Throbbing Gristle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
The Gap Band,
The Motions,
Lucky Dragons,
Stereo Dub,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
Niagra,
Cluster,
Q65,
Sex Pistols,
Warsaw,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Eli Mardock,
The Fire Engines,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Smog,
F. McDonald,
Erasure,
Nico,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hot Snakes,
the Association,
Youth Brigade,
Fear,
Henry Cow,
Rotary Connection,
Delta 5,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kenny Larkin,
Blake Baxter,
Cal Tjader,
Monolake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.