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 Ivory Coast and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Amon Düül,
Joey Negro,
Eve St. Jones,
Godley & Creme,
The Litter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reagan Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Panda Bear,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
David Bowie,
Dawn Penn,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Dorothy Ashby,
Theoretical Girls,
the Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Barry Ungar,
The Cowsills,
The United States of America,
Yusef Lateef,
Easy Going,
Sandy B,
The Last Poets,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Finger,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric Dolphy,
Warsaw,
The Slits,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mummies,
EPMD,
Interpol,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
Flamin' Groovies,
These Immortal Souls,
the Soft Cell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echospace,
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.