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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Rhythm & Sound to the disco 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
China Crisis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kas Product,
The Fuzztones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maurizio,
Desert Stars,
The Names,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Sheep,
Wally Richardson,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mojo Men,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
The Durutti Column,
Ice-T,
Smog,
Suicide,
Ponytail,
Kaleidoscope,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
Chrome,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dennis Brown,
Camouflage,
Fat Boys,
10cc,
Slave,
Jerry's Kids,
Monks,
Rekid,
Pagans,
ABC,
These Immortal Souls,
Aaron Thompson,
Saccharine Trust,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
Sun City Girls,
Liliput,
The Doors,
The Wake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Massinfluence,
Agitation Free,
Joe Smooth,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.