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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 CMW to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Maleditus Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Soul Sonic Force,
PIL,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Eurythmics,
Thompson Twins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Schoolly D,
Mad Mike,
Al Stewart,
Television,
Fluxion,
Drexciya,
Roxette,
Ohio Players,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rapeman,
Jeff Lynne,
Index,
Liliput,
Nas,
Panda Bear,
Basic Channel,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
John Lydon,
Aswad,
Khruangbin,
R.M.O.,
Wire,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gladiators,
The Birthday Party,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Görl,
F. McDonald,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Barracudas,
The New Christs,
Jerry's Kids,
Funkadelic,
Minnie Riperton,
Joensuu 1685,
Deakin,
Dawn Penn,
Peter and Kerry,
Siglo XX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.