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 Montenegro and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
kango's stein massive,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tom Boy,
The Fortunes,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlback,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
Silicon Teens,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Holt,
Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Roxy Music,
Banda Bassotti,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
JFA,
Funky Four + One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fatback Band,
Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
The Tremeloes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Wasted Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Walker Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Livin' Joy,
Joensuu 1685,
the Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grauzone,
John Cale,
Accadde A,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dual Sessions,
Patti Smith,
Youth Brigade,
Eric Copeland,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harpers Bizarre,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.