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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Rundgren to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Sound,
Sun Ra,
The Grass Roots,
Little Man,
Sugar Minott,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
the Normal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
It's A Beautiful Day,
F. McDonald,
Minny Pops,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Desert Stars,
Roy Ayers,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blancmange,
Iggy Pop,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scion,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Public Enemy,
Eli Mardock,
Arcadia,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Graham Central Station,
Japan,
Gong,
Carl Craig,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Rapeman,
Johnny Clarke,
the Germs,
Newcleus,
Black Flag,
Pussy Galore,
Swans,
The Techniques,
Leonard Cohen,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Au Pairs,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Sneak,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.