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 Austria and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Newcleus,
Yazoo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Todd Terry,
Rakim,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barry Ungar,
Maurizio,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Al Stewart,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Rundgren,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
MDC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Archie Shepp,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
The Pretty Things,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott Heron,
Symarip,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deadbeat,
Black Bananas,
UT,
Albert Ayler,
The Doors,
Organ,
kango's stein massive,
Cecil Taylor,
Franke,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.