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 Luxembourg and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Style to the disco 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
the Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Wings,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nirvana,
The Offenders,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joyce Sims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mars,
Barbara Tucker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Reuben Wilson,
Donald Byrd,
Davy DMX,
Warsaw,
Suicide,
Josef K,
Gang Green,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joe Finger,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Last Poets,
John Lydon,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
Fugazi,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance,
DJ Sneak,
Moss Icon,
The Real Kids,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
Bill Near,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick May,
The Happenings,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
Janne Schatter,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
Oneida,
Byron Stingily,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.