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 Jordan and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the electroclash 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Lower 48,
Q65,
Mars,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Duran Duran,
Janne Schatter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Juan Atkins,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
CMW,
The Saints,
Black Sheep,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
Icehouse,
Von Mondo,
MC5,
Blancmange,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oblivians,
Television,
The Star Department,
Eden Ahbez,
Letta Mbulu,
Wally Richardson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Age Steppers,
Marmalade,
Nas,
Can,
Chrome,
The Associates,
Henry Cow,
Alton Ellis,
Infiniti,
The American Breed,
Neu!,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
Maurizio,
Hasil Adkins,
The Knickerbockers,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter and Kerry,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
Ralphi Rosario,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.