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 Dominican Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Q and Not U to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The Walker Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Angry Samoans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Don Cherry,
Chris Corsano,
Pussy Galore,
Chrome,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kevin Saunderson,
Inner City,
the Human League,
Brick,
Massinfluence,
X-101,
Ronan,
Kas Product,
Echospace,
Clear Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Prince Buster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Audionom,
cv313,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
Dave Gahan,
Lucky Dragons,
Eurythmics,
Ronnie Foster,
The Misunderstood,
The Knickerbockers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Dirtbombs,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Public Image Ltd.,
UT,
Ultra Naté,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Hood,
The Offenders,
Guru Guru,
Pantytec,
the Slits,
Susan Cadogan,
Cal Tjader,
The Divine Comedy,
Barrington Levy,
The Five Americans,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.