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 Gambia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugazi to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tomorrow,
Q and Not U,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
The Velvet Underground,
X-101,
Spandau Ballet,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Terry,
Moebius,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
Oblivians,
Sarah Menescal,
Wings,
Quadrant,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Section 25,
Bush Tetras,
Interpol,
Slave,
The New Christs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Aswad,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun City Girls,
Infiniti,
New Age Steppers,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Bronski Beat,
The Last Poets,
The Buckinghams,
B.T. Express,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lungfish,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
The Remains,
The Gun Club,
The Leaves,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
Radiohead,
Gichy Dan,
Q65,
Swell Maps,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.