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 Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Cale,
Quando Quango,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slackers,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brick,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
Minutemen,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Visage,
Roy Ayers,
Severed Heads,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Qualms,
Youth Brigade,
Nils Olav,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dennis Brown,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cowsills,
ABBA,
DNA,
Laurel Aitken,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moebius,
Clear Light,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siglo XX,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
The Modern Lovers,
Massinfluence,
Radio Birdman,
Connie Case,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.