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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Evens to the electroclash 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
AZ,
Cymande,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Bourne,
Accadde A,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Juan Atkins,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
Colin Newman,
Cybotron,
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Easy Going,
Procol Harum,
Sarah Menescal,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
Reuben Wilson,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
Rufus Thomas,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
Japan,
Flash Fearless,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
Spoonie Gee,
Hoover,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra,
Susan Cadogan,
JFA,
Faraquet,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Tears for Fears,
the Germs,
Aswad,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.