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 Tuvalu and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Divine Comedy to the grunge 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
R.M.O.,
Lindisfarne,
Sight & Sound,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
The Victims,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hoover,
The Move,
Black Moon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Susan Cadogan,
Trumans Water,
Das Ding,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
Pierre Henry,
Crash Course in Science,
Flipper,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scott Walker,
Sällskapet,
Blake Baxter,
The Grass Roots,
Boogie Down Productions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Unrelated Segments,
Wally Richardson,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Morten Harket,
Maurizio,
Half Japanese,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joy Division,
The Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
MDC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Excepter,
Arcadia,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moleskins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.