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 Eritrea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
Man Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Rosa Yemen,
The Move,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
The Gories,
John Cale,
Monks,
LL Cool J,
Rekid,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
PIL,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lungfish,
Circle Jerks,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Eden Ahbez,
Laurel Aitken,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Symarip,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smiths,
Dual Sessions,
X-102,
Oneida,
Grey Daturas,
Japan,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
Subhumans,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Negative Approach,
Morten Harket,
Vainqueur,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.