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 Saudi Arabia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radiohead to the rap 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Maurizio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang On A Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Terry,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Arab on Radar,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Sonics,
Delta 5,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Toasters,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Liliput,
Blossom Toes,
Lalann,
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Index,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Victims,
New Order,
The Mummies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Tubeway Army,
Dual Sessions,
X-102,
Rotary Connection,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aaron Thompson,
Newcleus,
Siglo XX,
Duran Duran,
Derrick Morgan,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
KRS-One,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.