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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 The Associates to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun City Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
L. Decosne,
Ponytail,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Flipper,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
E-Dancer,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Toni Rubio,
Quando Quango,
PIL,
Second Layer,
48th St. Collective,
Eddi Front,
Kayak,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The J.B.'s,
X-Ray Spex,
Arthur Verocai,
Whodini,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Tears for Fears,
Chris & Cosey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kurtis Blow,
A Certain Ratio,
Althea and Donna,
Underground Resistance,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Hardrive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.