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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Walker Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
Slick Rick,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Mark Hollis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Music Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
Dennis Brown,
Steve Hackett,
The Five Americans,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
cv313,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
The Associates,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Sex Pistols,
Hoover,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Camouflage,
Sällskapet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Standells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes,
Moss Icon,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Near,
Suicide,
Circle Jerks,
Sight & Sound,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Normal,
Neil Young,
Skarface,
Neu!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.