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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Gladiators to the grunge 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Don Cherry,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
Susan Cadogan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marine Girls,
AZ,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Connie Case,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
The Cowsills,
Parry Music,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Sneak,
Johnny Clarke,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Style,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Standells,
Fat Boys,
Radiohead,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
U.S. Maple,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fluxion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fela Kuti,
Warren Ellis,
The Kinks,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
JFA,
The Wake,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
In Retrospect,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.