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 Togo and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Glenn Branca to the dance 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Index,
Aloha Tigers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Barrington Levy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cal Tjader,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Negative Approach,
Darondo,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
Scientists,
Donald Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oneida,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Anthony Braxton,
B.T. Express,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Icehouse,
L. Decosne,
Vainqueur,
Howard Jones,
Jandek,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pole,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eddi Front,
These Immortal Souls,
MDC,
Robert Hood,
The Moleskins,
Jerry's Kids,
the Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Görl,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Inner City,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Names,
The Kinks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bush Tetras,
Goldenarms,
kango's stein massive,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.