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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the crunk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Bluetip,
The Blues Magoos,
Joyce Sims,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
PIL,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moody Blues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronnie Foster,
The Offenders,
The Mojo Men,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
John Lydon,
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
X-101,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lightning Bolt,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Little Man,
Aaron Thompson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Intrusion,
Deepchord,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chrome,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Matthew Halsall,
Simply Red,
Black Flag,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Bronski Beat,
These Immortal Souls,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers,
Skaos,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun Ra,
Monolake,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.