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 Yemen and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Panda Bear to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Tommy Roe,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
Sister Nancy,
Slave,
A Certain Ratio,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
The Toasters,
Charles Mingus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Lou Christie,
Eve St. Jones,
Rapeman,
Anthony Braxton,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Alphaville,
Dead Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
Whodini,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
L. Decosne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantaleimon,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gladiators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Star Department,
kango's stein massive,
Davy DMX,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Magazine,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.