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 Turkey and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Soft Cell to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
The Index,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacob Miller,
Frankie Knuckles,
OOIOO,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-Ray Spex,
Eli Mardock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
Bang On A Can,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Massinfluence,
Fatback Band,
Malaria!,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
Pulsallama,
Black Bananas,
Organ,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül,
the Fania All-Stars,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dennis Brown,
Deakin,
Sällskapet,
Robert Hood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
Quadrant,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Pantytec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Green,
UT,
Agitation Free,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
Davy DMX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
Donny Hathaway,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.