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 Azerbaijan and from New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Public Enemy,
Audionom,
Bauhaus,
Minor Threat,
Trumans Water,
In Retrospect,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
Kaleidoscope,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
the Human League,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
The Modern Lovers,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cowsills,
Alison Limerick,
Slick Rick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
Television,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Deepchord,
Ludus,
Danielle Patucci,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chrome,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moleskins,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
Make Up,
Los Fastidios,
The Durutti Column,
The Leaves,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Move,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Sherman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.