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 Brunei and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Busters to the dance 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Liliput,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
Crime,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-101,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Andrew Hill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
48th St. Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
Pole,
the Sonics,
cv313,
Carl Craig,
Boredoms,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arcadia,
Bad Manners,
Television,
Skriet,
Fear,
New Order,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Almond,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Big Daddy Kane,
Suicide,
Letta Mbulu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Zeros,
Ice-T,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
Eddi Front,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lakeside,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Henry Cow,
The Fuzztones,
Pagans,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
A Certain Ratio,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.