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 Tanzania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the funk 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Make Up,
Inner City,
Section 25,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Symarip,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Mission of Burma,
Echospace,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Essential Logic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heaven 17,
June Days,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Green,
Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Hashim,
Wire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
AZ,
Warsaw,
Parry Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Bowie,
Talk Talk,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
Joensuu 1685,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Siglo XX,
Basic Channel,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter & Gordon,
Roxy Music,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Quando Quango,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.