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 Israel and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dave Gahan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Junior Murvin,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faust,
Sugar Minott,
Cluster,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
Black Pus,
Rufus Thomas,
Unrelated Segments,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Jacob Miller,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Excepter,
Max Romeo,
The Buckinghams,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
The J.B.'s,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Duran Duran,
The Angels of Light,
Godley & Creme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sex Pistols,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Animal Collective,
New Order,
Deakin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brothers Johnson,
John Foxx,
DJ Style,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
Ten City,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rapeman,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Enemy,
Tommy Roe,
Monks,
Mr. Review,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.