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 Eritrea and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rap 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Mad Mike,
The Associates,
The Barracudas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Toni Rubio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mo-Dettes,
Sam Rivers,
MC5,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television Personalities,
Scan 7,
Grey Daturas,
Henry Cow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
Average White Band,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
Pantytec,
Slick Rick,
Barclay James Harvest,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Red Krayola,
Animal Collective,
E-Dancer,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Hood,
Man Parrish,
The Move,
The Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Enemy,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
The Black Dice,
Flash Fearless,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
Faust,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Mills,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doors,
10cc,
The Knickerbockers,
Eli Mardock,
Theoretical Girls,
The Seeds,
Ten City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brass Construction,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.