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 Palau and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra,
H. Thieme,
Main Source,
Excepter,
Gang Green,
Essential Logic,
Fad Gadget,
The Dave Clark Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Basic Channel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Juan Atkins,
Monks,
The Trojans,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
Wire,
Siglo XX,
Donald Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Archie Shepp,
Kenny Larkin,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cowsills,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Smog,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
the Bar-Kays,
Thee Headcoats,
Roger Hodgson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swell Maps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Matthew Bourne,
Delta 5,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
Hashim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
The Gap Band,
Theoretical Girls,
The Standells,
Scientists,
Alice Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mission of Burma,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.