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 Chile and from Philadelphia.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Mummies 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
the Slits,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
Tres Demented,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
The Durutti Column,
Rotary Connection,
The Raincoats,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Skaos,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Germs,
Man Parrish,
Sound Behaviour,
The Knickerbockers,
The Victims,
Fluxion,
Shoche,
Joey Negro,
Negative Approach,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joy Division,
Groovy Waters,
The Zeros,
Janne Schatter,
Michelle Simonal,
Jerry's Kids,
X-102,
Adolescents,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Star Department,
The Young Rascals,
the Soft Cell,
Ice-T,
KRS-One,
Robert Hood,
Monks,
Talk Talk,
Black Bananas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stiv Bators,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.