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 Belarus and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gladiators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Raincoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slave,
The Residents,
Dark Day,
Aural Exciters,
The Motions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jandek,
Alice Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crash Course in Science,
Sparks,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
Amazonics,
Kaleidoscope,
MC5,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
Average White Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Zeros,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxette,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cymande,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Warsaw,
Moss Icon,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
Reuben Wilson,
Lower 48,
The Young Rascals,
Theoretical Girls,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Jeff Mills,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.