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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 Quadrant to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Masters at Work,
Swans,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
Stiv Bators,
The Fortunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Malaria!,
Can,
Minnie Riperton,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angry Samoans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris Corsano,
Yusef Lateef,
Fela Kuti,
The Mojo Men,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hasil Adkins,
Model 500,
The Durutti Column,
John Holt,
The Leaves,
Schoolly D,
Nico,
Buzzcocks,
Mandrill,
Slick Rick,
Brass Construction,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Gang Dance,
Underground Resistance,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Aswad,
Marc Almond,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül II,
The Fall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Groovy Waters,
Interpol,
Quantec,
Moby Grape,
The Smiths,
Camberwell Now,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
Zero Boys,
The Cramps,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brothers Johnson,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.