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 New Zealand and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Tremeloes to the techno 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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Brass Construction,
Y Pants,
Monolake,
The Moody Blues,
The Beau Brummels,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terry Callier,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Terry,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Arab on Radar,
Rosa Yemen,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Finger,
Khruangbin,
Erasure,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zero Boys,
Symarip,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
MDC,
Magazine,
The Searchers,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Fugazi,
ABC,
EPMD,
The Standells,
Ituana,
B.T. Express,
Carl Craig,
Anthony Braxton,
Nirvana,
Stereo Dub,
The Toasters,
Niagra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slave,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kas Product,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.