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 Montenegro 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gregory Isaacs to the electroclash 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Lindisfarne,
Dennis Brown,
Godley & Creme,
Junior Murvin,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Deadbeat,
Warren Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fall,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Shoche,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hot Snakes,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
The Misunderstood,
The Slits,
Chrome,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
LL Cool J,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Tim Buckley,
Circle Jerks,
Nico,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fear,
Babytalk,
The Count Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacob Miller,
Rekid,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Hood,
Nas,
Motorama,
Chris Corsano,
X-102,
Josef K,
Bluetip,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.