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 Bahrain and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grime 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans 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?
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tim Buckley,
The Standells,
Godley & Creme,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Warsaw,
Yazoo,
Lindisfarne,
The Buckinghams,
Silicon Teens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
New York Dolls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Model 500,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
Marvin Gaye,
F. McDonald,
Eric Dolphy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Foxx,
Magma,
The United States of America,
Cameo,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mummies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
Rotary Connection,
The Cramps,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young,
Guru Guru,
The Human League,
Sparks,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.