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 Suriname and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Five Americans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
Inner City,
The Moleskins,
Bauhaus,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
CMW,
Hot Snakes,
The Motions,
Cymande,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pole,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liliput,
Sugar Minott,
The Evens,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
One Last Wish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Faust,
John Holt,
The Music Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
Joyce Sims,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mad Mike,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
Accadde A,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.