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 Libya and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Kurtis Blow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warren Ellis,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Section 25,
Index,
Todd Terry,
Tears for Fears,
The J.B.'s,
The Monks,
The Invisible,
The Modern Lovers,
Zapp,
Dawn Penn,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gories,
Blake Baxter,
The Cramps,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
Danielle Patucci,
Laurel Aitken,
Darondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Velvet Underground,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter & Gordon,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ronan,
the Sonics,
Pole,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Brand Nubian,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cure,
Colin Newman,
Public Enemy,
Eddi Front,
Half Japanese,
One Last Wish,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.