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 Congo and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Names,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Freddie Wadling,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
the Fania All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Techniques,
Public Enemy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scan 7,
Pulsallama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Sight & Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Television,
The Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Iggy Pop,
Ten City,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
MC5,
Skriet,
Q65,
Visage,
Lou Reed,
Sound Behaviour,
Isaac Hayes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reuben Wilson,
The Last Poets,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fire Engines,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Ituana,
Faraquet,
Ronnie Foster,
Joensuu 1685,
Ice-T,
Parry Music,
Saccharine Trust,
Technova,
Pylon,
Faust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cameo,
Cymande,
Leonard Cohen,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.