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 Israel and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cymande to the rap 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Wings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Make Up,
Iggy Pop,
Lightning Bolt,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Country Teasers,
Popol Vuh,
The Tremeloes,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crime,
The J.B.'s,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Rites of Spring,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Style,
FM Einheit,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
The Happenings,
Roger Hodgson,
Judy Mowatt,
Tres Demented,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minny Pops,
Model 500,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Wyatt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agent Orange,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Almond,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.