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 South Africa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Banda Bassotti to the rap 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Aural Exciters,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Dark Day,
Bizarre Inc.,
ABBA,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hashim,
Malaria!,
Connie Case,
Letta Mbulu,
Davy DMX,
Goldenarms,
New York Dolls,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dead Boys,
Robert Hood,
Section 25,
Saccharine Trust,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
Don Cherry,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Niagra,
T. Rex,
The Names,
The Modern Lovers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pop Group,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
China Crisis,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Moon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
Pantytec,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.