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 South Sudan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 June of 44 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
Al Stewart,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Golliwogs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
UT,
Graham Central Station,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
Youth Brigade,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swans,
Ronnie Foster,
Lightning Bolt,
The Leaves,
Altered Images,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Grass Roots,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
The Count Five,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Technova,
Byron Stingily,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang of Four,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
Sonic Youth,
Unwound,
Yaz,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Absolute Body Control,
The Standells,
Q and Not U,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.