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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 X-Ray Spex 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and an organ 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 marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Theoretical Girls,
Moebius,
Negative Approach,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy Collins,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Absolute Body Control,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Los Fastidios,
Sound Behaviour,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joey Negro,
New Age Steppers,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grey Daturas,
The Knickerbockers,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sandy B,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smiths,
Sun Ra,
10cc,
The Fuzztones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Neil Young,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
The Raincoats,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Monks,
New Order,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vainqueur,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.