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 Slovakia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Erykah Badu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Slits,
Skarface,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Monochrome Set,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Isaac Hayes,
Grauzone,
Alton Ellis,
Thompson Twins,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Eric Copeland,
Jacques Brel,
Marmalade,
The Raincoats,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ohio Players,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sound,
The Kinks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cybotron,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
The United States of America,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.