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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet 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 Barbara Tucker to the grime 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Todd Terry,
Kurtis Blow,
Khruangbin,
Hoover,
Guru Guru,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Wells,
Harmonia,
Bobby Womack,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Flesh Eaters,
Anthony Braxton,
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
Section 25,
Jandek,
Black Flag,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
the Germs,
Niagra,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dirtbombs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
The Music Machine,
Eric Copeland,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fortunes,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monochrome Set,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terry Callier,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fat Boys,
Ronan,
Visage,
The Dead C,
Heaven 17,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Mars,
Boredoms,
The Slits,
The Gap Band,
Scan 7,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yaz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Accadde A,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.