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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gang Starr to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monks,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New York Dolls,
David Axelrod,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
Los Fastidios,
Girls At Our Best!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The New Christs,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Qualms,
Infiniti,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Organ,
Steve Hackett,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
Davy DMX,
Mad Mike,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
The Techniques,
Gang Starr,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
The Vogues,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cheater Slicks,
The Victims,
These Immortal Souls,
Main Source,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Byron Stingily,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
Buzzcocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rod Modell,
The Moleskins,
Cluster,
Public Enemy,
Sister Nancy,
Khruangbin,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.