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 Oman and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 The Monochrome Set to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Agitation Free,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Trumans Water,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
Khruangbin,
Shoche,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
Gang of Four,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Alphaville,
Mark Hollis,
Minny Pops,
Guru Guru,
Moebius,
Hardrive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Machine,
Smog,
Boredoms,
Bill Near,
Black Pus,
The Fire Engines,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gun Club,
Can,
The Star Department,
Maleditus Sound,
Bad Manners,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
Young Marble Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Chris Corsano,
Henry Cow,
Country Teasers,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Colin Newman,
The Angels of Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.