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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
The Kinks,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
Massinfluence,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
A Certain Ratio,
Fatback Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Blackbyrds,
Qualms,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Malaria!,
Joe Finger,
Robert Görl,
Soul Sonic Force,
Country Teasers,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
OOIOO,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxette,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
The Knickerbockers,
Goldenarms,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echospace,
Eddi Front,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Ultravox,
Erasure,
Minor Threat,
Mantronix,
Cybotron,
Robert Wyatt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joyce Sims,
Minutemen,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.