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 Saudi Arabia and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Max Romeo 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
The Music Machine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
Au Pairs,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
The Raincoats,
Marvin Gaye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scion,
Soul II Soul,
Duran Duran,
Y Pants,
Audionom,
The Star Department,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lungfish,
CMW,
The Moody Blues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bootsy Collins,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Maleditus Sound,
Dave Gahan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Byron Stingily,
Ponytail,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
The Black Dice,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Flipper,
Sex Pistols,
Carl Craig,
Dawn Penn,
Janne Schatter,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.