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 Benin and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the techno 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The Slackers,
World's Most,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
Radiohead,
Sexual Harrassment,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Lynne,
the Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rufus Thomas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rapeman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Soul II Soul,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mandrill,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smoke,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eurythmics,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Curtis Mayfield,
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang Green,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
Ludus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Organ,
Unwound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Funky Four + One,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.