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 Mauritius and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ten City to the funk 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
Sun City Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Tears for Fears,
Oblivians,
Byron Stingily,
Joensuu 1685,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Joyce Sims,
John Foxx,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Dawn Penn,
Half Japanese,
Saccharine Trust,
China Crisis,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Joey Negro,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
The Divine Comedy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mars,
Lightning Bolt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter & Gordon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Colin Newman,
Liliput,
Mad Mike,
Agent Orange,
Boredoms,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
The Invisible,
The Residents,
Fear,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
Harmonia,
Wally Richardson,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.