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 Palau and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 Babytalk to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
Los Fastidios,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nirvana,
Boredoms,
The Fall,
Chris & Cosey,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
Hoover,
Laurel Aitken,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Parrish,
Jawbox,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Carl Craig,
The Red Krayola,
Dark Day,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
Can,
MDC,
Steve Hackett,
Lungfish,
Al Stewart,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Freddie Wadling,
Nils Olav,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
Television,
Rapeman,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Technova,
Althea and Donna,
The Cowsills,
Drexciya,
Parry Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rod Modell,
Anthony Braxton,
Leonard Cohen,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.