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 Bulgaria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Minutemen to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Josef K,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The J.B.'s,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
48th St. Collective,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerri Chandler,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skarface,
Lakeside,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
The Barracudas,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Hoover,
the Association,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Von Mondo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oblivians,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dawn Penn,
David Bowie,
Ituana,
New Age Steppers,
Slave,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
Radiohead,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Unwound,
Max Romeo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.