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 Haiti and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Metal Thangz,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Henry Cow,
Bad Manners,
Monks,
Y Pants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
The Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
The New Christs,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jesper Dahlback,
Warsaw,
The Selecter,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
Khruangbin,
Magma,
Rotary Connection,
Michelle Simonal,
The Associates,
Heaven 17,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Terry,
Underground Resistance,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Liliput,
Pussy Galore,
The Angels of Light,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faust,
Ponytail,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rapeman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moody Blues,
Skaos,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sister Nancy,
Darondo,
Lyres,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Sherman,
Cecil Taylor,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.