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 Cape Verde and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 techno 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Marmalade,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
The Toasters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Yazoo,
The Invisible,
Stetsasonic,
Icehouse,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
Marshall Jefferson,
Judy Mowatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
The Offenders,
The American Breed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liliput,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Davy DMX,
Circle Jerks,
Motorama,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blackbyrds,
Slick Rick,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
Nas,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Al Stewart,
The Music Machine,
David Axelrod,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Zapp,
Terry Callier,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare,
Brand Nubian,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
Au Pairs,
New Age Steppers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cybotron,
Godley & Creme,
Television,
Japan,
Iggy Pop,
Alice Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gap Band,
One Last Wish,
Kenny Larkin,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.