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 Tunisia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Hoover to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Martian,
Babytalk,
The Velvet Underground,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
R.M.O.,
The Blackbyrds,
The Red Krayola,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Selecter,
Roxette,
Ludus,
H. Thieme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
Talk Talk,
Bill Near,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Bananas,
China Crisis,
The Cramps,
Godley & Creme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sonic Youth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Buzzcocks,
U.S. Maple,
Sight & Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Normal,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker,
Skarface,
E-Dancer,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hashim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.