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 India and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes 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 Beasts of Bourbon 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Wings,
MC5,
Crooked Eye,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
The Kinks,
The Sonics,
Lyres,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
Urselle,
Audionom,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers,
Kaleidoscope,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Womack,
Chris Corsano,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Moleskins,
Pantytec,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC,
Eric Dolphy,
OOIOO,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Flag,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Drexciya,
Agitation Free,
Faust,
New Age Steppers,
Von Mondo,
Joensuu 1685,
Joe Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.