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 Kosovo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Walker Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Dual Sessions,
Eden Ahbez,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
ABBA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Lucky Dragons,
Neu!,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monolake,
Mantronix,
Kaleidoscope,
June of 44,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warren Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aswad,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare,
Minor Threat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aaron Thompson,
The Knickerbockers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
CMW,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pere Ubu,
Loose Ends,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Offenders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crash Course in Science,
June Days,
Icehouse,
The Mojo Men,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.