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 Lesotho and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Lee Hazlewood to the crunk 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
The Last Poets,
Sällskapet,
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare,
Sight & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Neu!,
Eve St. Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
Scion,
Pagans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rotary Connection,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
Wire,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
Harmonia,
Main Source,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
Todd Terry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yaz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glenn Branca,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zapp,
Minny Pops,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
Robert Görl,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Rufus Thomas,
John Holt,
The Misunderstood,
Rekid,
Soul II Soul,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.