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 Norway and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marshall Jefferson to the dance 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Urselle,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
Mantronix,
Neil Young,
the Germs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cecil Taylor,
Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Motorama,
Technova,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
Moss Icon,
Main Source,
Niagra,
Oblivians,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Fraelich,
Pere Ubu,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Skatalites,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Toni Rubio,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed,
David McCallum,
The Last Poets,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Bronski Beat,
New Age Steppers,
Crime,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Flash Fearless,
Parry Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
Ohio Players,
UT,
Popol Vuh,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.