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 Tuvalu and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 the Fania All-Stars to the techno 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Oneida,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Last Poets,
Interpol,
Outsiders,
Flipper,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
The Searchers,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Clarke,
Severed Heads,
Shoche,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tommy Roe,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare,
Sparks,
Talk Talk,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cymande,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
cv313,
Brass Construction,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Youth Brigade,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Television Personalities,
Surgeon,
Camberwell Now,
Junior Murvin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Excepter,
Tears for Fears,
Scratch Acid,
Erykah Badu,
Rosa Yemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.