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 Brunei 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Tres Demented to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Fugazi,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Los Fastidios,
Desert Stars,
Skarface,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sixth Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Basic Channel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
UT,
Ludus,
Agitation Free,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
Supertramp,
Nik Kershaw,
MC5,
Ponytail,
Frankie Knuckles,
Toni Rubio,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
Circle Jerks,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus,
The Trojans,
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros,
MDC,
Cluster,
Gang Starr,
Main Source,
Matthew Bourne,
Junior Murvin,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.