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 North and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faraquet to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Lightning Bolt,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Babytalk,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Divine Comedy,
Bush Tetras,
Masters at Work,
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Dave Gahan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Grauzone,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Freddie Wadling,
Lucky Dragons,
Arthur Verocai,
DNA,
Das Ding,
Scion,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sister Nancy,
The Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Drexciya,
John Cale,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
The Happenings,
Visage,
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set,
Blossom Toes,
Ice-T,
Sex Pistols,
David McCallum,
The Associates,
Crash Course in Science,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.