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 Grenada and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Sparks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Franke,
The Dirtbombs,
Lindisfarne,
Newcleus,
Bill Near,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
The Beau Brummels,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Minutemen,
Drexciya,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
One Last Wish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sugar Minott,
Nirvana,
The United States of America,
Trumans Water,
The Moody Blues,
Thompson Twins,
Minnie Riperton,
Popol Vuh,
Mad Mike,
Joyce Sims,
the Normal,
Quadrant,
Swell Maps,
Tomorrow,
Josef K,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Althea and Donna,
PIL,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Charles Mingus,
Can,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delta 5,
Television,
Soul Sonic Force,
Shoche,
Arcadia,
Pantytec,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Gregory Isaacs,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.