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 Somalia and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth 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 rap 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Audionom,
The Mojo Men,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
The Beau Brummels,
Hoover,
Surgeon,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Supertramp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Interpol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Letta Mbulu,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Niagra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
Flipper,
Pulsallama,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
Schoolly D,
The Velvet Underground,
Duran Duran,
Lindisfarne,
R.M.O.,
Blancmange,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy Collins,
Rufus Thomas,
Wire,
The Gladiators,
The Sonics,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grauzone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fugs,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
Symarip,
Johnny Clarke,
Gichy Dan,
U.S. Maple,
James Chance & The Contortions,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.