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 Panama and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 DJ Style to the punk 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Vainqueur,
The Barracudas,
The Misunderstood,
Television Personalities,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rapeman,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Joe Smooth,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Order,
Marshall Jefferson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rekid,
Animal Collective,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Black Dice,
The Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Little Man,
Groovy Waters,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Byrd,
Al Stewart,
The Monochrome Set,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Pagans,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
Joey Negro,
Slick Rick,
Black Flag,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sonics,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Finger,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Yellowson,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.