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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sound Behaviour,
New Age Steppers,
Sparks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blossom Toes,
Sixth Finger,
Ralphi Rosario,
Model 500,
The Selecter,
F. McDonald,
Boredoms,
Anthony Braxton,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
the Human League,
Pulsallama,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
Amon Düül,
Wally Richardson,
JFA,
Mission of Burma,
Country Teasers,
June Days,
Henry Cow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wire,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
These Immortal Souls,
Anakelly,
Trumans Water,
Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantaleimon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Letta Mbulu,
Mantronix,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mojo Men,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Severed Heads,
Amon Düül II,
The Moleskins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lakeside,
The Fugs,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.