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 Liberia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Simply Red to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Davy DMX,
John Foxx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
La Düsseldorf,
John Holt,
Model 500,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jeff Lynne,
Cheater Slicks,
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Royal Trux,
Black Sheep,
Isaac Hayes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echospace,
Derrick May,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vainqueur,
Main Source,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
New Age Steppers,
Bauhaus,
The Invisible,
Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
Index,
Eddi Front,
Magma,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
the Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Brand Nubian,
Barry Ungar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
Cameo,
Faust,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.