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 Barbados and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 the Slits to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Oneida,
Grauzone,
Tom Boy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Music Machine,
John Lydon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Marcia Griffiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stiv Bators,
Sixth Finger,
The Selecter,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
Agitation Free,
The Fall,
Zapp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ice-T,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Sister Nancy,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
Amazonics,
Fugazi,
Althea and Donna,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flipper,
Neu!,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Sandy B,
The Moody Blues,
Chrome,
Spoonie Gee,
Swell Maps,
Faust,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.