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 Solomon Islands and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siglo XX,
Interpol,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moss Icon,
The Neon Judgement,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erykah Badu,
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Albert Ayler,
Archie Shepp,
Unrelated Segments,
Fat Boys,
a-ha,
The Move,
The Dead C,
Outsiders,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
Model 500,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
Mandrill,
Idris Muhammad,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
Piero Umiliani,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Theoretical Girls,
Khruangbin,
Derrick Morgan,
Minor Threat,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joy Division,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
Tears for Fears,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Rundgren,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.