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 Iceland and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Juan Atkins,
Accadde A,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Terry,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Trumans Water,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra,
Angry Samoans,
OOIOO,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Sheep,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Godley & Creme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson,
Hot Snakes,
Matthew Bourne,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chrome,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rekid,
Grauzone,
Rhythm & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camouflage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Teasers,
Von Mondo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Can,
PIL,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Roxette,
Franke,
Chris Corsano,
Roger Hodgson,
The Index,
Suicide,
Camberwell Now,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
Mars,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.