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 San Marino and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultra Naté,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MC5,
Khruangbin,
the Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan,
Guru Guru,
June Days,
Moby Grape,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
ABC,
Lightning Bolt,
Schoolly D,
Tommy Roe,
Supertramp,
Half Japanese,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dave Clark Five,
Youth Brigade,
Suicide,
CMW,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blancmange,
Leonard Cohen,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Music Machine,
Delta 5,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Warren Ellis,
The Five Americans,
The Angels of Light,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-102,
Letta Mbulu,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Underground Resistance,
kango's stein massive,
EPMD,
The Slits,
Section 25,
Hasil Adkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.