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 Nauru and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Peter & Gordon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Eddi Front,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
a-ha,
The American Breed,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Finger,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalann,
Toni Rubio,
Fluxion,
Sarah Menescal,
Al Stewart,
Jesper Dahlback,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
Letta Mbulu,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hardrive,
Pantaleimon,
Ice-T,
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
The Remains,
The Red Krayola,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
Masters at Work,
Black Pus,
Albert Ayler,
Duran Duran,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Graham Central Station,
Bauhaus,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül,
Fugazi,
Bad Manners,
PIL,
Qualms,
Funkadelic,
Camberwell Now,
The Count Five,
Eric Copeland,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vainqueur,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.