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 South Sudan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Remains to the disco 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Busters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible,
Al Stewart,
Arcadia,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
Section 25,
Bill Near,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Connie Case,
Dawn Penn,
Sam Rivers,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Hill,
The Young Rascals,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
B.T. Express,
Reagan Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sister Nancy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Last Poets,
Lyres,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
The Happenings,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Leaves,
Whodini,
Glenn Branca,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smiths,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
X-101,
Sex Pistols,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jerry's Kids,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.