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 Micronesia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Tremeloes to the jazz 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Quadrant,
Scion,
Kas Product,
Mars,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
The Techniques,
DJ Style,
The Velvet Underground,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Zapp,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultravox,
Eric B and Rakim,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Loose Ends,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cowsills,
Fad Gadget,
Sonny Sharrock,
Icehouse,
Con Funk Shun,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mantronix,
Dennis Brown,
Pere Ubu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
X-102,
Cybotron,
The Wake,
H. Thieme,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slackers,
Yaz,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Davy DMX,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
Banda Bassotti,
Radio Birdman,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
The Count Five,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
the Germs,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.