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 Greece and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Selecter to the grime 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Gang Green,
Suicide,
Scrapy,
LL Cool J,
Brand Nubian,
June Days,
Aswad,
Mandrill,
Mantronix,
Donald Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Q65,
Fear,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
PIL,
Letta Mbulu,
Subhumans,
Radio Birdman,
Pulsallama,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cal Tjader,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Simply Red,
H. Thieme,
Ten City,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Cymande,
Panda Bear,
Flash Fearless,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Bar-Kays,
Erykah Badu,
Roxette,
Lou Reed,
The Vogues,
Rakim,
Alice Coltrane,
Oneida,
The Selecter,
Agent Orange,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
The Misunderstood,
A Certain Ratio,
Guru Guru,
Pierre Henry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Hood,
Reuben Wilson,
Mark Hollis,
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.