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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba 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 Bluetip to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
David Axelrod,
Joy Division,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Idris Muhammad,
Ossler,
The Angels of Light,
Slave,
the Slits,
Tomorrow,
Kerrie Biddell,
The American Breed,
The Smoke,
Mantronix,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Television Personalities,
Skaos,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
The Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex,
The Selecter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
Bobby Sherman,
Anthony Braxton,
T.S.O.L.,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
A Certain Ratio,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arab on Radar,
Hot Snakes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doors,
This Heat,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Visage,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dead C,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.