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 Czech Republic and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aswad to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Mantronix,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gabor Szabo,
Nas,
Sight & Sound,
Mars,
Sonic Youth,
The Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
One Last Wish,
The Real Kids,
Loose Ends,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Man Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Steve Hackett,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare,
Josef K,
Whodini,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Guru Guru,
Visage,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vainqueur,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
Y Pants,
EPMD,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Todd Terry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erykah Badu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sparks,
Patti Smith,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fall,
Magazine,
Average White Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
R.M.O.,
Roxette,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.