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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Grey Daturas to the funk 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Minutemen,
Warsaw,
Byron Stingily,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
The New Christs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brothers Johnson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Pus,
Lou Christie,
Smog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Carl Craig,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Pylon,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
David McCallum,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gories,
The Misunderstood,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
EPMD,
Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
The Raincoats,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shuggie Otis,
Stereo Dub,
Dark Day,
Talk Talk,
Lyres,
Bill Near,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sonny Sharrock,
Davy DMX,
Sonic Youth,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
Rosa Yemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
Max Romeo,
The Durutti Column,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.