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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wasted Youth to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neu!,
Clear Light,
The Blackbyrds,
Eve St. Jones,
Yaz,
Interpol,
Tears for Fears,
The Fall,
Leonard Cohen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mo-Dettes,
Agent Orange,
Joey Negro,
Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
H. Thieme,
Pagans,
Pylon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
The Motions,
Silicon Teens,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sparks,
Massinfluence,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Skaos,
Tres Demented,
E-Dancer,
Agitation Free,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pop Group,
CMW,
Suicide,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Trumans Water,
Delta 5,
Jacques Brel,
Parry Music,
Ossler,
Slave,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.