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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Charles Mingus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy Collins,
The Raincoats,
LL Cool J,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Blancmange,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ultravox,
Nils Olav,
The Gladiators,
Scion,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Sparks,
H. Thieme,
The Tremeloes,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlback,
Henry Cow,
New Order,
Jimmy McGriff,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
Lalann,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slick Rick,
The Sonics,
Robert Hood,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
The Durutti Column,
Bush Tetras,
One Last Wish,
kango's stein massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
The Smiths,
Idris Muhammad,
Aloha Tigers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anakelly,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
Mad Mike,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.