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 Paraguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aloha Tigers,
Aural Exciters,
Morten Harket,
The Birthday Party,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare,
Peter and Kerry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jacques Brel,
Easy Going,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
X-102,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Christie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scientists,
Inner City,
Matthew Bourne,
Lakeside,
The Fortunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Gong,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Organ,
Au Pairs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
John Coltrane,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Görl,
Bizarre Inc.,
Delta 5,
Q and Not U,
Iggy Pop,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Whodini,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Todd Terry,
Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Sun Ra,
Bang On A Can,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.