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 Luxembourg and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moebius,
Television,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
Rufus Thomas,
The Martian,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
Sugar Minott,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
Blake Baxter,
Essential Logic,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joensuu 1685,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camberwell Now,
Maleditus Sound,
Bill Wells,
Duran Duran,
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
AZ,
Judy Mowatt,
Tom Boy,
Funky Four + One,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Real Kids,
Masters at Work,
Gong,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gories,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sandy B,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.