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 Micronesia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Eric B and Rakim to the crunk 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sam Rivers,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
The Busters,
Pantaleimon,
World's Most,
Roxette,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
AZ,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter & Gordon,
Piero Umiliani,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Sherman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Amazonics,
Heaven 17,
The Litter,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
Brick,
The Standells,
The Velvet Underground,
Max Romeo,
ABBA,
Bauhaus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Holt,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Rundgren,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skaos,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gap Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.