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 Panama and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slick Rick to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
Index,
Con Funk Shun,
Hashim,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fluxion,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
the Association,
Junior Murvin,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultravox,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Lynne,
Y Pants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Adolescents,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Blake Baxter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Motions,
T. Rex,
The Move,
MC5,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Toni Rubio,
Lower 48,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blancmange,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Easy Going,
Eli Mardock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bauhaus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Max Romeo,
Magazine,
The Saints,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
Henry Cow,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.