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 Zambia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smoke,
Alton Ellis,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Henry Cow,
T.S.O.L.,
Fela Kuti,
Eurythmics,
David Bowie,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Visage,
the Association,
Pierre Henry,
Television,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kurtis Blow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camouflage,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
Michelle Simonal,
Brass Construction,
Jeff Mills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MC5,
The Selecter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
Robert Görl,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Sherman,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roxy Music,
The Victims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sight & Sound,
Ice-T,
Supertramp,
X-102,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Letta Mbulu,
Japan,
Scott Walker,
The Young Rascals,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.