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 Nigeria and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the grime 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Roxette,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Piero Umiliani,
The Vogues,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
Talk Talk,
Robert Görl,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Doors,
Ice-T,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Make Up,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scion,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
In Retrospect,
Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Minnie Riperton,
A Certain Ratio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fat Boys,
Funkadelic,
Audionom,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
David Axelrod,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dave Gahan,
Sixth Finger,
Kayak,
B.T. Express,
Bob Dylan,
Eurythmics,
Colin Newman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Magazine,
Kas Product,
Drexciya,
The Evens,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.