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 Lebanon and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 ABC to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Bang On A Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
The Index,
Sam Rivers,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon,
Chris & Cosey,
Albert Ayler,
This Heat,
The Evens,
Aural Exciters,
Peter & Gordon,
Jacques Brel,
Grauzone,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Morten Harket,
Mars,
Parry Music,
The Searchers,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brass Construction,
Chrome,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
New Order,
R.M.O.,
The Angels of Light,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slackers,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Nas,
Gichy Dan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crime,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
Technova,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Nik Kershaw,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.