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 Eritrea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grime 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Andrew Hill,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Niagra,
The Moleskins,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Spoonie Gee,
Maleditus Sound,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Eddi Front,
Marmalade,
ABC,
Au Pairs,
Sandy B,
Lindisfarne,
Mad Mike,
Supertramp,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Little Man,
Harmonia,
Japan,
The Busters,
Skaos,
Scientists,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
UT,
Reuben Wilson,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantytec,
Unwound,
Sällskapet,
Minutemen,
the Normal,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
Zapp,
The Saints,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.