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 Somalia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Victims to the crunk 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Cameo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
The American Breed,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Roxette,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amazonics,
Intrusion,
This Heat,
Animal Collective,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
a-ha,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Laurel Aitken,
Wire,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gabor Szabo,
R.M.O.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pole,
In Retrospect,
the Slits,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television Personalities,
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Matthew Bourne,
Sällskapet,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Index,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.