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 Albania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Mantronix to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
DJ Style,
Peter and Kerry,
Icehouse,
Lightning Bolt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
Panda Bear,
Mr. Review,
Newcleus,
Rakim,
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Monks,
Pagans,
Sparks,
The Fall,
Bill Near,
Gastr Del Sol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June of 44,
AZ,
The Fuzztones,
Brand Nubian,
48th St. Collective,
Ituana,
Ossler,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
D'Angelo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
MDC,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
The Blackbyrds,
Lindisfarne,
Mars,
Gang Starr,
Quando Quango,
Pussy Galore,
Metal Thangz,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
Monolake,
Severed Heads,
The Slackers,
One Last Wish,
The Searchers,
Jawbox,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
CMW,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.