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 Gabon and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Au Pairs,
Arcadia,
Talk Talk,
Scott Walker,
Wally Richardson,
Hoover,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Machine,
Lower 48,
The Birthday Party,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Donny Hathaway,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Bananas,
In Retrospect,
Joe Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
Easy Going,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
the Normal,
Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
E-Dancer,
cv313,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Franke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
The Black Dice,
Joy Division,
The Human League,
Loose Ends,
Barbara Tucker,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Jawbox,
The Monks,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Arab on Radar,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.