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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pere Ubu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brand Nubian,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Y Pants,
Grauzone,
The Trojans,
The Sound,
The Last Poets,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pussy Galore,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pole,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Panda Bear,
New York Dolls,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Severed Heads,
Faraquet,
Echospace,
Cal Tjader,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Letta Mbulu,
the Association,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flash Fearless,
The Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Television Personalities,
Sparks,
Prince Buster,
Talk Talk,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
Television,
Moss Icon,
Absolute Body Control,
Minor Threat,
The Offenders,
Davy DMX,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roxette,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.