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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 the Association to the rock 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Model 500,
Yellowson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Drexciya,
Accadde A,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
Grey Daturas,
Wally Richardson,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Pere Ubu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q and Not U,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
B.T. Express,
Motorama,
The Stooges,
MDC,
Young Marble Giants,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Altered Images,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sandy B,
Toni Rubio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Ituana,
The Smiths,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Juan Atkins,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
EPMD,
Nico,
A Certain Ratio,
Soul II Soul,
Theoretical Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Section 25,
Tim Buckley,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.