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 Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bauhaus to the punk 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Cymande,
Marine Girls,
Robert Görl,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scion,
DJ Style,
Ken Boothe,
Don Cherry,
Grey Daturas,
Outsiders,
The Gap Band,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
The Star Department,
Matthew Halsall,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Happenings,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Japan,
Bobby Womack,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Cybotron,
The Invisible,
Lindisfarne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Deakin,
Skriet,
Sandy B,
Index,
Rakim,
Boredoms,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
Donald Byrd,
MDC,
The Stooges,
Quando Quango,
F. McDonald,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
The Cramps,
La Düsseldorf,
Con Funk Shun,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.