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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the crunk 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
T.S.O.L.,
Davy DMX,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Simply Red,
Desert Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Kurtis Blow,
These Immortal Souls,
Michelle Simonal,
Talk Talk,
The Misunderstood,
The Buckinghams,
Slave,
Silicon Teens,
X-102,
Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Amazonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Das Ding,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Audionom,
Procol Harum,
Rufus Thomas,
ABC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
Urselle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
Bauhaus,
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kenny Larkin,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Derrick May,
Don Cherry,
Pantaleimon,
Mark Hollis,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Sandy B,
Dead Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Matthew Bourne,
PIL,
Chris & Cosey,
cv313,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.