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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Donald Fagen 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
New Order,
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
World's Most,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacques Brel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Delta 5,
Shoche,
The Standells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gabor Szabo,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
The Seeds,
Black Moon,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
Negative Approach,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Velvet Underground,
Second Layer,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Tommy Roe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
China Crisis,
The Leaves,
Con Funk Shun,
Funkadelic,
Groovy Waters,
Minny Pops,
Wally Richardson,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
The Monochrome Set,
June of 44,
Audionom,
Surgeon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.