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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brand Nubian to the rock 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Faust,
Skaos,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Khruangbin,
Q65,
The Kinks,
Infiniti,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Mantronix,
Altered Images,
Glenn Branca,
John Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
John Holt,
Erasure,
The Standells,
Tres Demented,
Yazoo,
MDC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ludus,
The Pop Group,
Lou Christie,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
Kenny Larkin,
Sam Rivers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Selecter,
Nils Olav,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
Moby Grape,
Kevin Saunderson,
UT,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Icehouse,
Arcadia,
The Fuzztones,
Max Romeo,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Magazine,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra,
Sällskapet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
Thee Headcoats,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.