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 Belgium and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Tres Demented 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
H. Thieme,
the Bar-Kays,
Davy DMX,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Foxx,
The Black Dice,
The Smiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Drexciya,
Khruangbin,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly,
Bang On A Can,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Scan 7,
Hoover,
Visage,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cybotron,
Section 25,
Urselle,
Zapp,
CMW,
Althea and Donna,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonic Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
Ronnie Foster,
Fluxion,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Essential Logic,
The Mojo Men,
Leonard Cohen,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hot Snakes,
Q65,
Brick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joey Negro,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.