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 Georgia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Second Layer to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Organ,
Spandau Ballet,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
Pantytec,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Litter,
Harmonia,
Tim Buckley,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Khruangbin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sam Rivers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
James White and The Blacks,
Au Pairs,
Buzzcocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aswad,
Public Image Ltd.,
Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Brick,
Aural Exciters,
The Remains,
Ornette Coleman,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Pop Group,
Theoretical Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Kas Product,
Ludus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.