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 Guyana and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
The Litter,
Altered Images,
The Blackbyrds,
Kenny Larkin,
Schoolly D,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sällskapet,
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
Pantaleimon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Victims,
Spandau Ballet,
Bauhaus,
Boz Scaggs,
Tubeway Army,
Sam Rivers,
The Angels of Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronan,
Susan Cadogan,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Index,
Accadde A,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
Urselle,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doobie Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
Crime,
Lungfish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kaleidoscope,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
The Red Krayola,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Josef K,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Human League,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.