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 Uruguay and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thompson Twins to the jazz 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Wasted Youth,
Roxy Music,
the Association,
Derrick May,
Basic Channel,
DNA,
Chris Corsano,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T. Rex,
DJ Style,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pulsallama,
Siglo XX,
Rod Modell,
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Motions,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABC,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
Radiohead,
Archie Shepp,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Prunes,
The Leaves,
Thee Headcoats,
Section 25,
The Cure,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
Popol Vuh,
Zero Boys,
Sam Rivers,
One Last Wish,
Barrington Levy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Talk Talk,
Aaron Thompson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Babytalk,
The Cramps,
Connie Case,
Eden Ahbez,
48th St. Collective,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fuzztones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Skatalites,
EPMD,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.