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 Belize and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Count Five,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Hoover,
The Last Poets,
Chris Corsano,
Shoche,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Curtis Mayfield,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Surgeon,
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
Roger Hodgson,
Television Personalities,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Davy DMX,
Maleditus Sound,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
Second Layer,
The Buckinghams,
Patti Smith,
The Moleskins,
Kurtis Blow,
Japan,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vainqueur,
Banda Bassotti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stetsasonic,
Average White Band,
Minor Threat,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Axelrod,
Throbbing Gristle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aloha Tigers,
Rakim,
The Durutti Column,
Gong,
Eddi Front,
Roxette,
The Slackers,
New York Dolls,
Neil Young,
Ash Ra Tempel,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.