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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cybotron to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Robert Görl,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
The Gun Club,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick,
U.S. Maple,
The Toasters,
Dual Sessions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slits,
Erykah Badu,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Walker Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mandrill,
Letta Mbulu,
Derrick Morgan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Clarke,
Massinfluence,
The Durutti Column,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Maurizio,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantaleimon,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
Urselle,
Siglo XX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skarface,
Parry Music,
Jandek,
PIL,
T. Rex,
The Buckinghams,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
In Retrospect,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.