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 Antigua and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Section 25 to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Tom Boy,
The Music Machine,
KRS-One,
Shoche,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slackers,
X-102,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ice-T,
Cecil Taylor,
Scan 7,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
The Selecter,
Maleditus Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
The United States of America,
Girls At Our Best!,
48th St. Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
The Walker Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Qualms,
Sight & Sound,
Lalann,
The Associates,
The Modern Lovers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Can,
The Evens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magazine,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alton Ellis,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
Crime,
Neu!,
Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tears for Fears,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.