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 Georgia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
Scientists,
The Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
Albert Ayler,
Sandy B,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
X-102,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
Swell Maps,
Joy Division,
Nirvana,
Gang Green,
The Red Krayola,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eddi Front,
John Foxx,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bauhaus,
Black Pus,
Toni Rubio,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
Duran Duran,
Derrick Morgan,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oneida,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
ABBA,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
Faust,
Moebius,
Kaleidoscope,
Anthony Braxton,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.