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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Eric Copeland to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice 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 Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bill Near,
Flipper,
Nils Olav,
UT,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Simply Red,
The Gladiators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rapeman,
Banda Bassotti,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fat Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Procol Harum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Anthony Braxton,
Oblivians,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roxy Music,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Metal Thangz,
the Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Parry Music,
Neil Young,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
The Fall,
Lee Hazlewood,
F. McDonald,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.