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 Malawi and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 E-Dancer to the funk 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Erasure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funky Four + One,
Sparks,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
Mandrill,
Suicide,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
The Residents,
Pylon,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Judy Mowatt,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
ABC,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Evens,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
Slave,
Blancmange,
Sam Rivers,
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Arthur Verocai,
ABBA,
Crooked Eye,
John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Rosa Yemen,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Minutemen,
Half Japanese,
DJ Sneak,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ten City,
One Last Wish,
Second Layer,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camberwell Now,
Kerrie Biddell,
Make Up,
Josef K,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.