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 Malta and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MDC,
Youth Brigade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aswad,
Skriet,
The Doors,
Matthew Halsall,
These Immortal Souls,
The Neon Judgement,
Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Thee Headcoats,
Magma,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Vogues,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
John Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dirtbombs,
Marine Girls,
Panda Bear,
Lungfish,
Archie Shepp,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Foxx,
Franke,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
The Cramps,
Sonic Youth,
Nas,
Cybotron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Lydon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
Faust,
A Certain Ratio,
Fatback Band,
Shoche,
Eric Copeland,
The American Breed,
Harmonia,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.