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 Russia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dead C to the electroclash 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Section 25,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Tim Buckley,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Q and Not U,
Gong,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aswad,
Country Teasers,
Junior Murvin,
Dark Day,
John Lydon,
The Monochrome Set,
LL Cool J,
Mandrill,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T.S.O.L.,
Byron Stingily,
Kevin Saunderson,
Albert Ayler,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
Surgeon,
Marc Almond,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Lungfish,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Andrew Hill,
The Searchers,
The Red Krayola,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
X-101,
CMW,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Malaria!,
The Standells,
Ronan,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grey Daturas,
Max Romeo,
Pantytec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
EPMD,
Derrick Morgan,
Electric Prunes,
Silicon Teens,
Rapeman,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.