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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Newcleus to the crunk 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Skaos,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Saccharine Trust,
Warsaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
La Düsseldorf,
Agitation Free,
Sight & Sound,
The Smoke,
Procol Harum,
Grey Daturas,
Stetsasonic,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
The Move,
Kas Product,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
Todd Rundgren,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Stooges,
The Dave Clark Five,
LL Cool J,
OOIOO,
Negative Approach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
The Fall,
Kayak,
Kerrie Biddell,
cv313,
Roxette,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lucky Dragons,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Agent Orange,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Womack,
Essential Logic,
Skriet,
Half Japanese,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.