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 Taiwan and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
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 808 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
Crash Course in Science,
Aaron Thompson,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ludus,
The Names,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tom Boy,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Fela Kuti,
Grey Daturas,
Barry Ungar,
The Young Rascals,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Henry Cow,
Royal Trux,
Dave Gahan,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lebanon Hanover,
Byron Stingily,
Joyce Sims,
Flipper,
Gregory Isaacs,
Interpol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vainqueur,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
Ultravox,
The Victims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.