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 Vietnam and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Michelle Simonal to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
Bob Dylan,
Magma,
The Angels of Light,
Colin Newman,
Half Japanese,
Sarah Menescal,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Hill,
Aaron Thompson,
Don Cherry,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gories,
Fat Boys,
Khruangbin,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Panda Bear,
Fear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quantec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joy Division,
Hashim,
Tears for Fears,
Chris & Cosey,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barry Ungar,
Harmonia,
Technova,
Glenn Branca,
Minny Pops,
JFA,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
The Victims,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Newcleus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
Circle Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fuzztones,
Dave Gahan,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.