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 Romania and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Cameo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker,
Sly & The Family Stone,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nas,
The Cramps,
Bobby Sherman,
Whodini,
Pierre Henry,
Nils Olav,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
Juan Atkins,
Erykah Badu,
The Gun Club,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
R.M.O.,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
Trumans Water,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agent Orange,
John Holt,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Derrick May,
Morten Harket,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Normal,
New Age Steppers,
Suicide,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yazoo,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Fela Kuti,
Nico,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.