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 Italy and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 A Certain Ratio to the electroclash 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barbara Tucker,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nation of Ulysses,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dawn Penn,
The Motions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Livin' Joy,
China Crisis,
Lou Christie,
Sound Behaviour,
Bad Manners,
The Selecter,
Talk Talk,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kaleidoscope,
Darondo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
Jeff Mills,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Carl Craig,
8 Eyed Spy,
T.S.O.L.,
Eli Mardock,
Lindisfarne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
LL Cool J,
Make Up,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Young Rascals,
Grey Daturas,
Brick,
The Modern Lovers,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Charles Mingus,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.