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 Bulgaria and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marshall Jefferson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins 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?
The Gories,
Audionom,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Mantronix,
Blancmange,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
In Retrospect,
Ten City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vainqueur,
Joe Finger,
Aswad,
Bob Dylan,
DNA,
Anakelly,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
Camouflage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Half Japanese,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Funkadelic,
Rakim,
Maurizio,
Max Romeo,
Ossler,
Andrew Hill,
the Soft Cell,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Brothers Johnson,
Stereo Dub,
Chrome,
Absolute Body Control,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nik Kershaw,
JFA,
Infiniti,
Marine Girls,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Accadde A,
Don Cherry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Public Image Ltd.,
Little Man,
The Skatalites,
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.