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 France and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 R.M.O. 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Can,
The Gap Band,
The Skatalites,
U.S. Maple,
R.M.O.,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
The Offenders,
Colin Newman,
Animal Collective,
the Slits,
Rosa Yemen,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
E-Dancer,
Slick Rick,
The Smiths,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
the Bar-Kays,
Hardrive,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Maleditus Sound,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
The Barracudas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Maurizio,
Duran Duran,
Sparks,
Grauzone,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gong,
New Order,
Avey Tare,
Dead Boys,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Foxx,
David Axelrod,
Sun City Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
KRS-One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eli Mardock,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.