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 Korea South and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Agent Orange to the disco 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy 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?
Prince Buster,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Derrick Morgan,
Fugazi,
Agent Orange,
Absolute Body Control,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
The Gladiators,
Lightning Bolt,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skarface,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Tremeloes,
the Soft Cell,
the Normal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Residents,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
The Gories,
Ultra Naté,
Don Cherry,
Alphaville,
Franke,
Brass Construction,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun City Girls,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
B.T. Express,
Andrew Hill,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
Camberwell Now,
Minnie Riperton,
Guru Guru,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dave Gahan,
Godley & Creme,
Ten City,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.