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 Egypt and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 UT to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
Piero Umiliani,
Theoretical Girls,
Charles Mingus,
The Motions,
Amazonics,
Gang Starr,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
T.S.O.L.,
The Red Krayola,
Whodini,
The Barracudas,
Bill Wells,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
MC5,
Mark Hollis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Flag,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Unwound,
The Wake,
Warren Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Basic Channel,
The Count Five,
This Heat,
Marc Almond,
DJ Style,
Faust,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cheater Slicks,
A Certain Ratio,
the Human League,
Minutemen,
The Golliwogs,
Maurizio,
Siglo XX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
The Busters,
Schoolly D,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Todd Terry,
Boz Scaggs,
Aural Exciters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.