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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the punk 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
the Swans,
Rekid,
MDC,
Skarface,
Oneida,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Piero Umiliani,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spoonie Gee,
The Beau Brummels,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Duran Duran,
Wally Richardson,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
Danielle Patucci,
The Move,
Matthew Halsall,
Lightning Bolt,
Sällskapet,
Scientists,
The Stooges,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
the Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Lee Hazlewood,
U.S. Maple,
The Sound,
cv313,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
Yazoo,
Arab on Radar,
June Days,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donald Byrd,
Bauhaus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Divine Comedy,
Ludus,
FM Einheit,
Sight & Sound,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.