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 Uruguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Colin Newman to the techno 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Young Marble Giants,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantytec,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun City Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
KRS-One,
Make Up,
Robert Wyatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marmalade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Whodini,
Darondo,
Alphaville,
Matthew Bourne,
Soft Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Eating Sloth,
Byron Stingily,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Soft Cell,
Rekid,
The Angels of Light,
Oblivians,
The Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
The Slackers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
JFA,
Smog,
The Seeds,
Eurythmics,
Warsaw,
Stetsasonic,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Dennis Brown,
Bauhaus,
Subhumans,
Eric Copeland,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Anakelly,
Vainqueur,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.