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 Ivory Coast and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Camberwell Now to the electroclash 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Misunderstood,
H. Thieme,
Main Source,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Finger,
The Names,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dead Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gun Club,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Nirvana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
FM Einheit,
Rod Modell,
Lyres,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Desert Stars,
Faust,
Monks,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Shoche,
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Fela Kuti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Danielle Patucci,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
Organ,
Sister Nancy,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Moebius,
Funky Four + One,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.