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 Uzbekistan and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flash Fearless to the techno 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Derrick May,
The Fugs,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Idris Muhammad,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aloha Tigers,
The Golliwogs,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Faust,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Prince Buster,
Das Ding,
The Birthday Party,
Sam Rivers,
Yaz,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zapp,
The Kinks,
Infiniti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Hill,
Quantec,
Marine Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Metal Thangz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
The Gap Band,
Kaleidoscope,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
The Fall,
Fatback Band,
Sun City Girls,
The Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
Nick Fraelich,
Flipper,
The Human League,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.