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 Albania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Remains to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Warsaw,
Tubeway Army,
Fear,
Lou Christie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
Flipper,
L. Decosne,
Letta Mbulu,
The Index,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nico,
Grauzone,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spoonie Gee,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nas,
Kas Product,
Peter and Kerry,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shoche,
Lightning Bolt,
The Wake,
Depeche Mode,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
the Association,
a-ha,
Radio Birdman,
Soul II Soul,
Black Bananas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
KRS-One,
Gichy Dan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erasure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thee Headcoats,
Junior Murvin,
The Mummies,
Eurythmics,
The Sonics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dawn Penn,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.