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 Vietnam and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum 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 Nirvana to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
H. Thieme,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Sheep,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
Spandau Ballet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Talk Talk,
Bauhaus,
Model 500,
Supertramp,
Fear,
Minnie Riperton,
Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Residents,
Can,
Sex Pistols,
The Gap Band,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kayak,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
Stereo Dub,
The Associates,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
X-102,
Dennis Brown,
Symarip,
Deadbeat,
Cymande,
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marine Girls,
Unwound,
Mr. Review,
Skriet,
Schoolly D,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
Henry Cow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Vogues,
Matthew Halsall,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.