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 Guatemala and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 The Cramps to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Youth Brigade,
Nik Kershaw,
Pierre Henry,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks,
Joy Division,
The Monks,
The Barracudas,
Whodini,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Heaven 17,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Erykah Badu,
John Coltrane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Rundgren,
The Beau Brummels,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Urselle,
John Lydon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
FM Einheit,
Reuben Wilson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Osbourne,
EPMD,
Gong,
Neu!,
The Vogues,
The Seeds,
Mad Mike,
Pantaleimon,
Bill Near,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amon Düül II,
Animal Collective,
Carl Craig,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Wire,
Rufus Thomas,
Massinfluence,
Japan,
Fear,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.