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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum 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 The Toasters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Delta 5,
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
D'Angelo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bluetip,
Faraquet,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Livin' Joy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kenny Larkin,
Supertramp,
Marvin Gaye,
Scientists,
The Cure,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fluxion,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronnie Foster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Arcadia,
Trumans Water,
Tom Boy,
Groovy Waters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warren Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
Monks,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Nik Kershaw,
Toni Rubio,
Moss Icon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Sneak,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Rites of Spring,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.