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 Suriname and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Urselle to the crunk 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bad Manners,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cymande,
Urselle,
The Raincoats,
Y Pants,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Boredoms,
The United States of America,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skarface,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
Adolescents,
The Detroit Cobras,
Peter and Kerry,
Trumans Water,
Agent Orange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
ABC,
Donald Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Flipper,
Kaleidoscope,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
H. Thieme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
The Selecter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soulsonic Force,
the Association,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
Derrick May,
Sugar Minott,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.