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 Bolivia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Suburban Knight,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
Barbara Tucker,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
The Busters,
Shuggie Otis,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faust,
Bizarre Inc.,
Derrick May,
The Martian,
Kas Product,
Peter & Gordon,
Niagra,
Warsaw,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monolake,
Lower 48,
Livin' Joy,
Technova,
Quando Quango,
Minnie Riperton,
Television Personalities,
Dawn Penn,
Altered Images,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bootsy Collins,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Fatback Band,
Bronski Beat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Certain Ratio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Surgeon,
Dave Gahan,
Rod Modell,
Deepchord,
the Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Gabor Szabo,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.