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 Liechtenstein and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Brass Construction to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Easy Going,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
Yellowson,
Neu!,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hardrive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Hill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Dark Day,
June of 44,
Scrapy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magazine,
Sixth Finger,
Inner City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deepchord,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Silicon Teens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Soulsonic Force,
Prince Buster,
Trumans Water,
John Lydon,
Maleditus Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Walker Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
The Invisible,
The American Breed,
the Bar-Kays,
Faust,
Little Man,
the Human League,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.