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 Uzbekistan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bronski Beat to the crunk 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Foxx,
F. McDonald,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bob Dylan,
Blossom Toes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DNA,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Prince Buster,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fugazi,
Drexciya,
Basic Channel,
Popol Vuh,
Con Funk Shun,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Associates,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Underground Resistance,
Talk Talk,
Tubeway Army,
Yaz,
A Certain Ratio,
Barrington Levy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mad Mike,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
The New Christs,
Isaac Hayes,
Qualms,
Sun City Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.