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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vladislav Delay,
Sound Behaviour,
The Leaves,
The Real Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agent Orange,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bill Near,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
Eli Mardock,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
The Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Grass Roots,
The Seeds,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Peter and Kerry,
JFA,
Quadrant,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
Prince Buster,
Royal Trux,
Glenn Branca,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Funky Four + One,
Skriet,
Tears for Fears,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker,
Cameo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Clear Light,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.