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 the UAE and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Soul II Soul to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
David McCallum,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scrapy,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
Swans,
Todd Terry,
Zero Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hot Snakes,
The Count Five,
Fela Kuti,
Joyce Sims,
Chris & Cosey,
New Order,
Make Up,
Lakeside,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grey Daturas,
Rod Modell,
Panda Bear,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Faust,
The Evens,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gories,
The Neon Judgement,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
Monolake,
Boogie Down Productions,
B.T. Express,
Infiniti,
The Dead C,
Kaleidoscope,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
Absolute Body Control,
Ice-T,
Motorama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Technova,
The Black Dice,
Agitation Free,
Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.