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 Nicaragua and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Carl Craig to the grime 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Idris Muhammad,
Excepter,
K-Klass,
James White and The Blacks,
Outsiders,
Depeche Mode,
AZ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Von Mondo,
Rekid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gong,
Crooked Eye,
Mad Mike,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Hardrive,
The Star Department,
Lalann,
Jacques Brel,
Jerry's Kids,
Barclay James Harvest,
B.T. Express,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blake Baxter,
Eurythmics,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gories,
Jeff Mills,
EPMD,
Swans,
Talk Talk,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donny Hathaway,
Crime,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Parry Music,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Hood,
Bronski Beat,
Graham Central Station,
John Lydon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Isaac Hayes,
Davy DMX,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.