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 San Marino and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
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 Metal Thangz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The New Christs,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Neu!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quantec,
Archie Shepp,
Soft Cell,
Nico,
Maurizio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms,
X-101,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pussy Galore,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warren Ellis,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
Fear,
Popol Vuh,
The Wake,
Lebanon Hanover,
Carl Craig,
Minutemen,
Joey Negro,
La Düsseldorf,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Josef K,
Liliput,
Gang Gang Dance,
Massinfluence,
Derrick May,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
Scientists,
Interpol,
Tubeway Army,
Pagans,
Ultra Naté,
Scion,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.