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 Benin and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grauzone 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Names,
Rod Modell,
Pagans,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
the Slits,
The Index,
Simply Red,
Scrapy,
Aswad,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pussy Galore,
Marvin Gaye,
AZ,
The Music Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Harmonia,
Marc Almond,
Zapp,
The Fortunes,
the Germs,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Pus,
Bronski Beat,
The Vogues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
Juan Atkins,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Infiniti,
The Knickerbockers,
Stiv Bators,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Dolphy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
The Gladiators,
Peter and Kerry,
Yellowson,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
Cybotron,
The Count Five,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Ponytail,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Jawbox,
The Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Freddie Wadling,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.