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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Nils Olav,
James White and The Blacks,
The Happenings,
Basic Channel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Gang of Four,
Yellowson,
Warsaw,
The Busters,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
These Immortal Souls,
Porter Ricks,
E-Dancer,
Mission of Burma,
Byron Stingily,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Main Source,
R.M.O.,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
Lyres,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dark Day,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deakin,
Sister Nancy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Holt,
Harmonia,
Motorama,
Kurtis Blow,
Audionom,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Techniques,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Peter and Kerry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.