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 Romania 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slave to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Popol Vuh,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
Ohio Players,
The Standells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Skarface,
Minnie Riperton,
Little Man,
Nils Olav,
kango's stein massive,
The Buckinghams,
cv313,
Neil Young,
Maurizio,
Rhythm & Sound,
China Crisis,
Alton Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
AZ,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
Kurtis Blow,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Halsall,
Sister Nancy,
Q65,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
The Doors,
Jeff Mills,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Desert Stars,
Gang Green,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
DNA,
Boz Scaggs,
Minny Pops,
DJ Style,
the Association,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.