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 Sudan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sandy B to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
Lou Christie,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
Funkadelic,
The Tremeloes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rosa Yemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Soul II Soul,
Grey Daturas,
Sparks,
Connie Case,
Kenny Larkin,
Hoover,
Jacob Miller,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
PIL,
Quadrant,
The Blues Magoos,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
Cameo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Icehouse,
Camouflage,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
Freddie Wadling,
Cymande,
Skriet,
KRS-One,
Unrelated Segments,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Ultra Naté,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gichy Dan,
Bauhaus,
The Five Americans,
the Association,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Kurtis Blow,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeff Mills,
Guru Guru,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.