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 Saudi Arabia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Marshall Jefferson to the punk 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Invisible,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
U.S. Maple,
Newcleus,
Morten Harket,
Underground Resistance,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erasure,
Deakin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stereo Dub,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jandek,
Chris & Cosey,
UT,
Skarface,
Eddi Front,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare,
Kaleidoscope,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
D'Angelo,
Lou Christie,
Fela Kuti,
Fugazi,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
Ultimate Spinach,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
Arthur Verocai,
The New Christs,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Nico,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echospace,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.