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 Liberia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Blossom Toes to the techno 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott Heron,
Godley & Creme,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Electric Prunes,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
Lindisfarne,
the Fania All-Stars,
10cc,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skaos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler,
Darondo,
Ultra Naté,
Grauzone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sight & Sound,
The Black Dice,
Depeche Mode,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
The Trojans,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heaven 17,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
New Order,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Tres Demented,
John Foxx,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
the Association,
Neil Young,
ABBA,
June of 44,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.