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 Samoa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare 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 Liliput to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Robert Görl,
The Last Poets,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Matthew Bourne,
Dead Boys,
Wire,
The Gap Band,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
June Days,
kango's stein massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Kurtis Blow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Audionom,
Smog,
The Blackbyrds,
Basic Channel,
Hasil Adkins,
Goldenarms,
Gang Green,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Wings,
The Fuzztones,
Eurythmics,
The Residents,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Near,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Radio Birdman,
Echospace,
Aaron Thompson,
Gichy Dan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Stooges,
X-101,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.