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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Robert Palmer 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 Mantronix to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cecil Taylor,
Brothers Johnson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ituana,
ABBA,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Barracudas,
CMW,
Fad Gadget,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
Television Personalities,
Albert Ayler,
The Names,
Cluster,
Radio Birdman,
Godley & Creme,
Davy DMX,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shuggie Otis,
Interpol,
Lightning Bolt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Audionom,
Sun City Girls,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
Amon Düül,
These Immortal Souls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Reuben Wilson,
Barrington Levy,
Sonic Youth,
The Smiths,
The Skatalites,
Yusef Lateef,
The Knickerbockers,
Funkadelic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sexual Harrassment,
Danielle Patucci,
Zero Boys,
Little Man,
Dawn Penn,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.