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 Namibia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Dice to the disco 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Neil Young,
Mark Hollis,
DNA,
Parry Music,
Excepter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roger Hodgson,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
kango's stein massive,
Nas,
K-Klass,
Monolake,
Ronan,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Reuben Wilson,
Vainqueur,
Gang of Four,
The Golliwogs,
Neu!,
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
Kerri Chandler,
Sex Pistols,
The Dead C,
Fluxion,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
The Trojans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
The Blackbyrds,
Buzzcocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Parrish,
The Martian,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Letta Mbulu,
The Durutti Column,
Crime,
Mo-Dettes,
The Real Kids,
Swell Maps,
Rosa Yemen,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.