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 Greece and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Bizarre Inc.,
Spandau Ballet,
Livin' Joy,
Minny Pops,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kayak,
Tim Buckley,
ABBA,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Y Pants,
Zero Boys,
Vainqueur,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Charles Mingus,
The Velvet Underground,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pere Ubu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alphaville,
Derrick May,
Popol Vuh,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
Scientists,
Archie Shepp,
Lalann,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy Collins,
Erykah Badu,
L. Decosne,
The Knickerbockers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
Danielle Patucci,
Derrick Morgan,
Half Japanese,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cramps,
Adolescents,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Panda Bear,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Electric Prunes,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.