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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Minny Pops to the electroclash 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Jacob Miller,
Carl Craig,
The Slackers,
Oneida,
Hasil Adkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Lydon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hardrive,
China Crisis,
Peter and Kerry,
Ituana,
Byron Stingily,
Laurel Aitken,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
The Fortunes,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
Skaos,
Subhumans,
Ronnie Foster,
ABBA,
Marvin Gaye,
Darondo,
The Leaves,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terry Callier,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yazoo,
Radio Birdman,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Crooked Eye,
The Five Americans,
Lalann,
kango's stein massive,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suicide,
Nico,
Marine Girls,
Eric Copeland,
The Monochrome Set,
In Retrospect,
LL Cool J,
Gang Starr,
Lower 48,
Tubeway Army,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.