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 China and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Au Pairs to the grime 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
June Days,
New York Dolls,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Warsaw,
Eli Mardock,
The Trojans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gregory Isaacs,
Leonard Cohen,
Moebius,
Amon Düül,
Nas,
K-Klass,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Mr. Review,
Dark Day,
Thee Headcoats,
The Last Poets,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dawn Penn,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eurythmics,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Nirvana,
Ronan,
Jandek,
Minor Threat,
Morten Harket,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.