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 Finland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Trumans Water to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
Electric Prunes,
Patti Smith,
The Smoke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Copeland,
Scion,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sexual Harrassment,
Porter Ricks,
X-102,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Association,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T. Rex,
Donald Byrd,
Basic Channel,
David Bowie,
Hot Snakes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Youth Brigade,
The Modern Lovers,
Cluster,
Bill Near,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vainqueur,
Johnny Clarke,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Carl Craig,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Sheep,
ABC,
The Zeros,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Tremeloes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shuggie Otis,
Juan Atkins,
Slave,
The Fall,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Judy Mowatt,
Davy DMX,
Iggy Pop,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.