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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Ornette Coleman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Style,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
The Associates,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Tres Demented,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kas Product,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
This Heat,
The Mummies,
Television,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aswad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronan,
Pantaleimon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Half Japanese,
Supertramp,
Duran Duran,
LL Cool J,
Wasted Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
June of 44,
Pole,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Byron Stingily,
Cheater Slicks,
Y Pants,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Visage,
Aloha Tigers,
Quantec,
James White and The Blacks,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Jacques Brel,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brothers Johnson,
Spoonie Gee,
Gregory Isaacs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.