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 Denmark and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Rakim to the grunge 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Mojo Men,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drexciya,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Wally Richardson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
FM Einheit,
X-101,
The Litter,
the Slits,
Oblivians,
Organ,
Make Up,
Eli Mardock,
Crooked Eye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gladiators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nirvana,
R.M.O.,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Arab on Radar,
Audionom,
Scrapy,
Barbara Tucker,
Matthew Halsall,
Buzzcocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marine Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Anakelly,
the Normal,
Lalann,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Sällskapet,
The Fugs,
Silicon Teens,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lakeside,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.