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 Azerbaijan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 In Retrospect to the crunk 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The Trojans,
the Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Man Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
Ponytail,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James White and The Blacks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Magma,
Soul Sonic Force,
Symarip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
This Heat,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
The Gap Band,
Cameo,
Scientists,
X-101,
Archie Shepp,
Laurel Aitken,
New York Dolls,
Gang Starr,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
the Swans,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Ronan,
Essential Logic,
Althea and Donna,
Babytalk,
Siglo XX,
Adolescents,
Alton Ellis,
Ten City,
Accadde A,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blackbyrds,
Rotary Connection,
Au Pairs,
Neu!,
Youth Brigade,
UT,
Eddi Front,
JFA,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.