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 Liberia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
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 synthesizer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Evens,
Lou Christie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Walker Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
The Blues Magoos,
Danielle Patucci,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harmonia,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scion,
Reagan Youth,
Mission of Burma,
the Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
Junior Murvin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deepchord,
Neil Young,
Nas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
The Dead C,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Section 25,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Deadbeat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Y Pants,
The Cramps,
The Monks,
Animal Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
T.S.O.L.,
Bauhaus,
Aaron Thompson,
The Index,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
Crime,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Divine Comedy,
Eli Mardock,
Archie Shepp,
Vainqueur,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Wake,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.