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 Grenada and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jacob Miller to the grime 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
48th St. Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
The Gladiators,
Laurel Aitken,
Joyce Sims,
A Certain Ratio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hashim,
Gabor Szabo,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barrington Levy,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
Schoolly D,
Khruangbin,
Sandy B,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Carl Craig,
Television,
X-101,
F. McDonald,
Jerry's Kids,
Kurtis Blow,
Kayak,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
Drexciya,
Aural Exciters,
Absolute Body Control,
Heaven 17,
Black Bananas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Invisible,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Cell,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
Babytalk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Theoretical Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
the Swans,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.