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 Morocco and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bootsy Collins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
La Düsseldorf,
Tubeway Army,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
Anthony Braxton,
the Bar-Kays,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marmalade,
Pussy Galore,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tommy Roe,
David Axelrod,
Moss Icon,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Sam Rivers,
Magma,
Guru Guru,
The Stooges,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slick Rick,
FM Einheit,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Selecter,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Ituana,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Graham Central Station,
Alphaville,
Janne Schatter,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Flash Fearless,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smoke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unwound,
Hot Snakes,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.