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 Macedonia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Donny Hathaway to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Make Up,
Organ,
Motorama,
Average White Band,
Moby Grape,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
cv313,
Silicon Teens,
Sixth Finger,
Archie Shepp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Toni Rubio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bizarre Inc.,
KRS-One,
Symarip,
U.S. Maple,
The Raincoats,
AZ,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Motions,
Faust,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
Loose Ends,
Cymande,
Shoche,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tubeway Army,
The Gladiators,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Subhumans,
Neil Young,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Masters at Work,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Sherman,
MC5,
Junior Murvin,
The Beau Brummels,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Vladislav Delay,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.