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 Angola and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Traffic Nightmare 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sparks,
Aswad,
Brand Nubian,
Sun City Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stockholm Monsters,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
The Names,
Hoover,
DJ Style,
Mars,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Saccharine Trust,
Procol Harum,
Sugar Minott,
Bronski Beat,
the Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Section 25,
Pylon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cheater Slicks,
The Golliwogs,
Tears for Fears,
Arcadia,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Roxy Music,
DJ Sneak,
Ossler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills,
Alton Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Underground Resistance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tubeway Army,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Howard Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
Tommy Roe,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eve St. Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.