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 East Timor and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Association to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Michelle Simonal,
Terry Callier,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
Flash Fearless,
Unwound,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Neon Judgement,
Davy DMX,
Dave Gahan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
The Star Department,
Sound Behaviour,
Suicide,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
Kerri Chandler,
One Last Wish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moss Icon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bad Manners,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
Hashim,
Eurythmics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
Camberwell Now,
Patti Smith,
The Motions,
Barbara Tucker,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warren Ellis,
Aaron Thompson,
Gong,
Todd Rundgren,
Sparks,
Severed Heads,
OOIOO,
T.S.O.L.,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dawn Penn,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.