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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Black Dice to the crunk 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Funkadelic,
The Monks,
Japan,
Infiniti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yaz,
Negative Approach,
Pantaleimon,
Loose Ends,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-101,
Black Sheep,
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
World's Most,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell,
The Angels of Light,
Joyce Sims,
Suburban Knight,
Mantronix,
Anakelly,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Underground Resistance,
Siglo XX,
David Axelrod,
Icehouse,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke,
The Selecter,
Theoretical Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Minutemen,
Ponytail,
John Holt,
Junior Murvin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Metal Thangz,
Stereo Dub,
Boz Scaggs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fatback Band,
Thompson Twins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.