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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Lou Reed 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 Joyce Sims to the crunk 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Wyatt,
The Names,
John Holt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Kinks,
New Age Steppers,
Chrome,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Brass Construction,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roger Hodgson,
The Last Poets,
The Offenders,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Görl,
Heaven 17,
China Crisis,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
Blancmange,
Wire,
Matthew Bourne,
The Young Rascals,
Los Fastidios,
Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Tears for Fears,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barrington Levy,
Funkadelic,
Lightning Bolt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
Excepter,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gabor Szabo,
Agent Orange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter and Kerry,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Charles Mingus,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Clear Light,
Slick Rick,
Guru Guru,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.