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 Philippines and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Das Ding to the dance 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
Newcleus,
Technova,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Easy Going,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
EPMD,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Wally Richardson,
The Dead C,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faust,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hardrive,
Cal Tjader,
Marvin Gaye,
The Martian,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Holt,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
the Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Heaven 17,
Robert Wyatt,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Al Stewart,
New Order,
Clear Light,
Fela Kuti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Zeros,
AZ,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.