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 Andorra and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ronnie Foster to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Eli Mardock,
Masters at Work,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
The Invisible,
Fear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minutemen,
Quando Quango,
The Gap Band,
Robert Hood,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
B.T. Express,
the Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Pulsallama,
The Saints,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Sheep,
Nas,
The Victims,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
The Index,
Cal Tjader,
Black Flag,
Tommy Roe,
Jandek,
Zero Boys,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Chrome,
Alison Limerick,
Graham Central Station,
The Pop Group,
A Certain Ratio,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Bourne,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.