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 Sierra Leone 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Babytalk to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Nico,
The Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rekid,
New Order,
Scientists,
the Sonics,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
Sixth Finger,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Danielle Patucci,
Neil Young,
Y Pants,
The Cure,
Scott Walker,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
Spoonie Gee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Essential Logic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ossler,
The Remains,
David McCallum,
Supertramp,
Fugazi,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
Toni Rubio,
Darondo,
Simply Red,
Vainqueur,
MC5,
Talk Talk,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Bad Manners,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Man Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.