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 Antigua and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rap 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
Blossom Toes,
Motorama,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joe Finger,
Bad Manners,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
Bauhaus,
Blancmange,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Jerry's Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Das Ding,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra,
Arcadia,
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Brass Construction,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
Ornette Coleman,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Archie Shepp,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dennis Brown,
Visage,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delta 5,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed,
Quando Quango,
Au Pairs,
Darondo,
Blake Baxter,
Bluetip,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Bush Tetras,
Lyres,
Index,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cowsills,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
Hoover,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
48th St. Collective,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.