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 Jordan and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Crash Course in Science to the grime 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Pierre Henry,
Matthew Bourne,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Gong,
This Heat,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Busters,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Goldenarms,
Carl Craig,
Lower 48,
Dorothy Ashby,
The New Christs,
Ultra Naté,
Zapp,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Janne Schatter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Fraelich,
Radiohead,
Make Up,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flipper,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
Siglo XX,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tres Demented,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Reed,
Man Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
Schoolly D,
E-Dancer,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Grass Roots,
Unwound,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.