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 Philippines and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Goldenarms to the dance 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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Vladislav Delay,
Aloha Tigers,
The Evens,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Ituana,
Pharoah Sanders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Section 25,
Shuggie Otis,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monochrome Set,
Henry Cow,
Derrick May,
Sugar Minott,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Moby Grape,
Warsaw,
In Retrospect,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Kerrie Biddell,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Skarface,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smiths,
cv313,
Spandau Ballet,
Michelle Simonal,
Alison Limerick,
Nils Olav,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
Rites of Spring,
Ponytail,
Excepter,
This Heat,
Josef K,
Maleditus Sound,
Ludus,
Bluetip,
Albert Ayler,
Rapeman,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
Chris Corsano,
Reuben Wilson,
the Slits,
John Foxx,
The Black Dice,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.