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 Philippines and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Icehouse to the electroclash 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Gong,
Liliput,
L. Decosne,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
Massinfluence,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hasil Adkins,
Delta 5,
Hoover,
Kenny Larkin,
Sarah Menescal,
Yazoo,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
The Golliwogs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
JFA,
48th St. Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Jawbox,
Nas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bronski Beat,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smoke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Don Cherry,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
The Raincoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Mills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bauhaus,
Unrelated Segments,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Television Personalities,
Blake Baxter,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.