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 Slovakia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James White and The Blacks to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Minor Threat,
Mission of Burma,
Ponytail,
The Happenings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth,
Wings,
Drexciya,
Blake Baxter,
Pussy Galore,
Cymande,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Liliput,
Al Stewart,
Television Personalities,
Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Machine,
Kurtis Blow,
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Lindisfarne,
Ken Boothe,
Altered Images,
The Blues Magoos,
ABC,
JFA,
In Retrospect,
Hardrive,
The Stooges,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy Collins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
K-Klass,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
Deakin,
New Order,
Rakim,
Eric Dolphy,
The Birthday Party,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobbi Humphrey,
La Düsseldorf,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Count Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.