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 Ivory Coast and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Standells,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
Anakelly,
Pulsallama,
Arcadia,
Con Funk Shun,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
Brass Construction,
Sight & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Lower 48,
Au Pairs,
Marmalade,
Interpol,
The Fall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minutemen,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lyres,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blancmange,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ronan,
The Fuzztones,
Moebius,
Reuben Wilson,
DNA,
Gang Starr,
Pantytec,
Deepchord,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiohead,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
June of 44,
John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
DJ Sneak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.