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 Suriname and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Bush Tetras to the dance 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
D'Angelo,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
Blossom Toes,
Howard Jones,
The Cramps,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scott Walker,
Desert Stars,
Gang Green,
The Mummies,
Leonard Cohen,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ten City,
R.M.O.,
Camberwell Now,
Donald Byrd,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Pulsallama,
Darondo,
Rod Modell,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Excepter,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
F. McDonald,
Isaac Hayes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Index,
Sam Rivers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Motions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Swans,
Pylon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.