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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Selecter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Letta Mbulu,
The Remains,
Tubeway Army,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
The Smoke,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Funky Four + One,
Marine Girls,
The Fortunes,
Khruangbin,
Visage,
Rakim,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Altered Images,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oblivians,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fear,
New Order,
Ponytail,
Aural Exciters,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Supertramp,
Magma,
Eden Ahbez,
Suicide,
Young Marble Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Guru Guru,
UT,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Howard Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
Public Enemy,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.