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 Monaco and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Nils Olav to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
The Dead C,
Rites of Spring,
the Germs,
Maleditus Sound,
The Saints,
Ultra Naté,
Eden Ahbez,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter and Kerry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stereo Dub,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Fat Boys,
R.M.O.,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James White and The Blacks,
Easy Going,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Bar-Kays,
Patti Smith,
Agitation Free,
Intrusion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
Mr. Review,
Danielle Patucci,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Howard Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
Davy DMX,
The Raincoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
Vainqueur,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mantronix,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blackbyrds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang On A Can,
The J.B.'s,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Quadrant,
Unrelated Segments,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moleskins,
Marvin Gaye,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.