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 India 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The United States of America,
The Last Poets,
Kurtis Blow,
Bad Manners,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
ABBA,
Metal Thangz,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tim Buckley,
Chrome,
Soulsonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang On A Can,
Newcleus,
Black Sheep,
Cameo,
Moebius,
Lucky Dragons,
Echospace,
Schoolly D,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gichy Dan,
Clear Light,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiohead,
Angry Samoans,
Urselle,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ice-T,
Cecil Taylor,
Guru Guru,
a-ha,
Massinfluence,
the Normal,
Skaos,
Country Teasers,
David Bowie,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Prunes,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Duran Duran,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Nik Kershaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.