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 Bahrain and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Y Pants 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Animal Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ludus,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
Lalann,
Josef K,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Niagra,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Absolute Body Control,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Sonics,
Yaz,
World's Most,
Zero Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
L. Decosne,
Moebius,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
Deadbeat,
The Last Poets,
Desert Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Toasters,
Minny Pops,
Liliput,
Minutemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Pole,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barry Ungar,
PIL,
Lower 48,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Names,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Make Up,
Letta Mbulu,
Gichy Dan,
Banda Bassotti,
Sight & Sound,
Jacob Miller,
The Knickerbockers,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
Wally Richardson,
Monks,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.