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 Solomon Islands and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Urselle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Oblivians,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Tommy Roe,
KRS-One,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donald Byrd,
Unrelated Segments,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Excepter,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
cv313,
Lower 48,
Chrome,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grauzone,
Shuggie Otis,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Thompson Twins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Duran Duran,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slackers,
New York Dolls,
Talk Talk,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Raincoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grey Daturas,
Reuben Wilson,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
Suburban Knight,
Connie Case,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.