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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Joyce Sims to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
Easy Going,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Angels of Light,
Lightning Bolt,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
Roxette,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure,
The Toasters,
Harmonia,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gladiators,
Fugazi,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-101,
Television,
Aloha Tigers,
Scott Walker,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flipper,
Freddie Wadling,
Royal Trux,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Dark Day,
Nas,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Ronnie Foster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sugar Minott,
Rufus Thomas,
Toni Rubio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Talk Talk,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rod Modell,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.