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 Latvia and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Eric Copeland to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Hoover,
Alphaville,
Heaven 17,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jacob Miller,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
FM Einheit,
Gichy Dan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Dual Sessions,
Darondo,
K-Klass,
Brick,
Lungfish,
Barbara Tucker,
The J.B.'s,
Sandy B,
Danielle Patucci,
Camouflage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
the Normal,
Model 500,
Derrick May,
Fad Gadget,
Mark Hollis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Vainqueur,
Godley & Creme,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Agitation Free,
The Vogues,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Clarke,
D'Angelo,
Rod Modell,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Rekid,
Interpol,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
These Immortal Souls,
10cc,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.