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 Spain and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Laurel Aitken,
OOIOO,
Adolescents,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
These Immortal Souls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wings,
T. Rex,
The Fall,
Terry Callier,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pulsallama,
Radiohead,
Girls At Our Best!,
New Age Steppers,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alphaville,
Stiv Bators,
PIL,
The Leaves,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
Deadbeat,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers,
Bush Tetras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
Ituana,
Symarip,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
Zapp,
The Motions,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
Cybotron,
Mo-Dettes,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.