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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Seeds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Alice Coltrane,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hasil Adkins,
Oblivians,
U.S. Maple,
Heaven 17,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed,
Roger Hodgson,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
the Association,
The Count Five,
LL Cool J,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantaleimon,
Maurizio,
Aaron Thompson,
Eurythmics,
The Motions,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DJ Sneak,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
L. Decosne,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
the Slits,
June Days,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
The Misunderstood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
China Crisis,
Juan Atkins,
Faust,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.