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 Turkmenistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grauzone to the punk 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scientists,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Divine Comedy,
Ludus,
The Litter,
the Normal,
Soul II Soul,
Pole,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
D'Angelo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
KRS-One,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
Eric Copeland,
Q and Not U,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Darondo,
Joyce Sims,
The Busters,
ABBA,
Black Bananas,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Martian,
Barry Ungar,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Lynne,
Erykah Badu,
Quadrant,
Girls At Our Best!,
Iggy Pop,
Outsiders,
Sex Pistols,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
Clear Light,
The Blackbyrds,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sällskapet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra,
Black Flag,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.