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 Spain and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
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 Lou Reed 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 Kas Product to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brothers Johnson,
48th St. Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy Collins,
Quantec,
The Five Americans,
Monolake,
MC5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
Pagans,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Bar-Kays,
Erykah Badu,
The Index,
Ice-T,
Lalann,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
the Normal,
Motorama,
Crooked Eye,
Theoretical Girls,
Zapp,
Monks,
Ronnie Foster,
Mo-Dettes,
Von Mondo,
Cameo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sight & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
The Walker Brothers,
Anakelly,
Rod Modell,
Silicon Teens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fortunes,
Tubeway Army,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Zeros,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
The Star Department,
Pantaleimon,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.