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 Grenada and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Camouflage to the grime 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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dark Day,
The Move,
Lalann,
The Cramps,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Star Department,
Severed Heads,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Byron Stingily,
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deakin,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
The Fire Engines,
Skarface,
Arthur Verocai,
John Cale,
Fear,
a-ha,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Intrusion,
Infiniti,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Fat Boys,
Boredoms,
The Pop Group,
Tubeway Army,
The Gories,
Terrestrial Tones,
James White and The Blacks,
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
Donny Hathaway,
Throbbing Gristle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Slits,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scratch Acid,
Colin Newman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Janne Schatter,
Heaven 17,
Pantaleimon,
Newcleus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Public Enemy,
Excepter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.