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 Zimbabwe and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Lydon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeff Mills,
Neil Young,
Harmonia,
The Beau Brummels,
The Skatalites,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Amazonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Delta 5,
Sound Behaviour,
Ronnie Foster,
The Standells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
Bill Near,
Drexciya,
Parry Music,
Motorama,
The Fall,
The Gun Club,
Pet Shop Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül II,
Surgeon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Skriet,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Pole,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
Davy DMX,
Das Ding,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
The Remains,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Index,
The Victims,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
The Names,
Hot Snakes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Oblivians,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.