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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Glambeats Corp. to the funk 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Lou Reed,
Black Sheep,
Ronan,
Quantec,
Albert Ayler,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gladiators,
Eric Copeland,
the Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pierre Henry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roy Ayers,
Ituana,
Audionom,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Sonic Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Eurythmics,
Minny Pops,
In Retrospect,
Ponytail,
Ultra Naté,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Yusef Lateef,
The Motions,
This Heat,
Bootsy Collins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Panda Bear,
The Slackers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
Fluxion,
Lindisfarne,
Television Personalities,
Deepchord,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sandy B,
Y Pants,
Susan Cadogan,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.