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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Lyres to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Rites of Spring,
Sarah Menescal,
Sight & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
F. McDonald,
EPMD,
The Black Dice,
Junior Murvin,
Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
The Victims,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The New Christs,
The Modern Lovers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronnie Foster,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minnie Riperton,
Symarip,
Alton Ellis,
The Mummies,
Youth Brigade,
Letta Mbulu,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
The Beau Brummels,
Gichy Dan,
The Grass Roots,
Traffic Nightmare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fad Gadget,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
the Slits,
Moebius,
The Standells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Germs,
Judy Mowatt,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.