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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Altered Images to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Sonny Sharrock,
Erasure,
Albert Ayler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zero Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Essential Logic,
Pantaleimon,
Goldenarms,
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Easy Going,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed,
Jandek,
The Busters,
Camberwell Now,
Camouflage,
Danielle Patucci,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Lydon,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
Brass Construction,
Radio Birdman,
Clear Light,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Lou Christie,
Aaron Thompson,
Scion,
a-ha,
The Real Kids,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
Brick,
Mary Jane Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Sherman,
Funkadelic,
Ronnie Foster,
ABBA,
Malaria!,
Zapp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Frankie Knuckles,
Smog,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gabor Szabo,
the Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Dark Day,
Scratch Acid,
KRS-One,
The Litter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.