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 St Lucia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Pylon,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Yaz,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
Saccharine Trust,
The Golliwogs,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anakelly,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mojo Men,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Massinfluence,
Eden Ahbez,
Susan Cadogan,
The Durutti Column,
The Young Rascals,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Thee Headcoats,
Cameo,
Nick Fraelich,
Cybotron,
Ten City,
Byron Stingily,
Lalann,
Kas Product,
Wings,
Pantaleimon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Vogues,
Junior Murvin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pierre Henry,
Gabor Szabo,
Faraquet,
Skarface,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fortunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spoonie Gee,
The J.B.'s,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.