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 Serbia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 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 Altered Images to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Carl Craig,
The Index,
Andrew Hill,
Brass Construction,
The Alarm Clocks,
Leonard Cohen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deakin,
Altered Images,
Crispy Ambulance,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Bill Near,
The Fall,
Wings,
Grauzone,
Subhumans,
Index,
Susan Cadogan,
David McCallum,
Alton Ellis,
Quantec,
Khruangbin,
Tears for Fears,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
Delta 5,
Gang Starr,
Bang On A Can,
Arab on Radar,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aural Exciters,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Christie,
Lucky Dragons,
Whodini,
Zapp,
Eddi Front,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shoche,
The United States of America,
Joe Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Faust,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantaleimon,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.