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 United States and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Robert Görl to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Copeland,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
DNA,
Mandrill,
Connie Case,
Aloha Tigers,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
Gang of Four,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
The Names,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lyres,
Albert Ayler,
Kas Product,
Monks,
Audionom,
The Barracudas,
The Gories,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Wells,
Oneida,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Toasters,
Terry Callier,
The American Breed,
Charles Mingus,
Harmonia,
Bobby Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kenny Larkin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Finger,
Joy Division,
the Swans,
The Slits,
Erasure,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
Model 500,
Derrick Morgan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.