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 Nauru and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Niagra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Urselle,
Q65,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cure,
DJ Style,
The Busters,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
Talk Talk,
Reuben Wilson,
The Vogues,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smiths,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed,
The Black Dice,
Connie Case,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Circle Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Siglo XX,
The Tremeloes,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Faraquet,
The Sonics,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Don Cherry,
Ossler,
U.S. Maple,
Pantaleimon,
Agitation Free,
Cybotron,
Pulsallama,
Little Man,
Barclay James Harvest,
Babytalk,
The Trojans,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Bananas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Certain Ratio,
Stetsasonic,
Wally Richardson,
Henry Cow,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Hashim,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.