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 Cyprus and from New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Chris Corsano to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Depeche Mode,
The Misunderstood,
Thee Headcoats,
Dennis Brown,
Malaria!,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blackbyrds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Slave,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Easy Going,
Stiv Bators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Wake,
The Modern Lovers,
Mantronix,
Deakin,
Siglo XX,
The Electric Prunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
Pantaleimon,
Joe Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Lalo Schifrin,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Banda Bassotti,
The Offenders,
Young Marble Giants,
Derrick May,
Alison Limerick,
New Age Steppers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Velvet Underground,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Lydon,
Kurtis Blow,
Sound Behaviour,
X-Ray Spex,
Davy DMX,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Busters,
Crooked Eye,
Blancmange,
Thompson Twins,
Scan 7,
Erykah Badu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dave Gahan,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
Altered Images,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.