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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Eric B and Rakim to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
the Swans,
Ponytail,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
The Busters,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Chris & Cosey,
The Residents,
Darondo,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
James White and The Blacks,
The J.B.'s,
Sugar Minott,
Stetsasonic,
Tommy Roe,
The Moleskins,
Neil Young,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Lucky Dragons,
Nirvana,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alison Limerick,
Joey Negro,
Skriet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
Black Pus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ice-T,
Alton Ellis,
Ronan,
Carl Craig,
Donald Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
DNA,
The Blackbyrds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultra Naté,
Average White Band,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Anakelly,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Von Mondo,
Agitation Free,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.