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 Eritrea and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
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 808 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 Barclay James Harvest to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Organ,
Franke,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Nas,
Crooked Eye,
Bluetip,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
Rites of Spring,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-102,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hardrive,
Jacques Brel,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yaz,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
Sandy B,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
Kurtis Blow,
Groovy Waters,
Neil Young,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
AZ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Procol Harum,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
The Monochrome Set,
Trumans Water,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.