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 Kenya and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 U.S. Maple to the electroclash 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Cluster,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Lakeside,
Hoover,
Smog,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Moon,
Ultravox,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes,
Alison Limerick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure,
Bootsy Collins,
FM Einheit,
John Holt,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
David Axelrod,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
The Invisible,
Suicide,
Henry Cow,
The United States of America,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monolake,
Anakelly,
Black Bananas,
Ultra Naté,
New Age Steppers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Sixth Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alice Coltrane,
Wings,
Althea and Donna,
Franke,
OOIOO,
The Electric Prunes,
Reagan Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.