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 Fiji and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moss Icon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Derrick Morgan,
The Misunderstood,
Royal Trux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
Swans,
Connie Case,
The Trojans,
Wolf Eyes,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
Bob Dylan,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Stooges,
Basic Channel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Inner City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
The J.B.'s,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Monolake,
The Velvet Underground,
Jandek,
Liliput,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arthur Verocai,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
FM Einheit,
The Fall,
Simply Red,
Rufus Thomas,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Interpol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bad Manners,
Kas Product,
The Gories,
Kerri Chandler,
The Victims,
Chris & Cosey,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.