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 Panama and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Godley & Creme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nils Olav,
The Red Krayola,
Black Bananas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Wyatt,
Fat Boys,
Smog,
Kas Product,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wire,
Derrick May,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sparks,
Slave,
The Wake,
Marmalade,
Judy Mowatt,
Excepter,
Lightning Bolt,
Donald Byrd,
Don Cherry,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Average White Band,
Monks,
Blake Baxter,
Oblivians,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Radiohead,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fela Kuti,
Wolf Eyes,
Juan Atkins,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Görl,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alton Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Ten City,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cramps,
Make Up,
Monolake,
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.