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 Iraq and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 crunk 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Newcleus,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Circle Jerks,
Malaria!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül II,
The Fall,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mojo Men,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
Theoretical Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Star Department,
David Bowie,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
The Zeros,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Goldenarms,
Black Moon,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Vainqueur,
These Immortal Souls,
Motorama,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Bronski Beat,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Soulsonic Force,
Index,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.