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 Dominica and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Christie to the electroclash 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
T.S.O.L.,
Faraquet,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Trojans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oneida,
The Litter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bauhaus,
the Association,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amon Düül II,
Sun City Girls,
Simply Red,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
Juan Atkins,
The Dead C,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Rundgren,
Tim Buckley,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
Mad Mike,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
The Velvet Underground,
Patti Smith,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Procol Harum,
B.T. Express,
Susan Cadogan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
Lindisfarne,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Absolute Body Control,
John Lydon,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Dead Boys,
Pole,
Deadbeat,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.