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 Albania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
The Gories,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slick Rick,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Bourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
Colin Newman,
Rites of Spring,
Erasure,
La Düsseldorf,
Rapeman,
Model 500,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nik Kershaw,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wasted Youth,
Essential Logic,
Motorama,
Wings,
Bobby Womack,
Black Flag,
Fat Boys,
The Moody Blues,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jandek,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fad Gadget,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cowsills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Starr,
Icehouse,
The Tremeloes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.