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 Grenada and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Tropical Tobacco to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
Oneida,
Grauzone,
the Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Roger Hodgson,
Patti Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
Dawn Penn,
the Swans,
Groovy Waters,
Al Stewart,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
Letta Mbulu,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
Nils Olav,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Selecter,
The Blues Magoos,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
Whodini,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Clarke,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pylon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yellowson,
Tom Boy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Seeds,
Carl Craig,
The Slits,
Country Teasers,
Youth Brigade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gap Band,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
The Neon Judgement,
Crash Course in Science,
Flipper,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soul II Soul,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.