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 Croatia and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Leaves to the jazz 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The J.B.'s,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Accadde A,
E-Dancer,
Kurtis Blow,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Susan Cadogan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Oneida,
The Remains,
Rapeman,
The Cure,
Niagra,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Leonard Cohen,
Quantec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aswad,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
the Germs,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
Delta 5,
The Raincoats,
Deadbeat,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Rundgren,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
Roxette,
Shoche,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pylon,
Mad Mike,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Swell Maps,
Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
Carl Craig,
Alison Limerick,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.