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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs,
Moebius,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flash Fearless,
Crime,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Don Cherry,
Ken Boothe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hardrive,
Eden Ahbez,
Index,
Deakin,
Television Personalities,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes,
Letta Mbulu,
Crash Course in Science,
Easy Going,
Bill Near,
The United States of America,
Qualms,
Drexciya,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Rundgren,
Cameo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Fraelich,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sam Rivers,
Josef K,
The Skatalites,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
Gang of Four,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Starr,
Unwound,
Eddi Front,
The Slits,
Rekid,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.