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 Congo and from Bremen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Simply Red to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neil Young,
Fat Boys,
Derrick May,
Joy Division,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Busters,
Quando Quango,
Bauhaus,
Erasure,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
48th St. Collective,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Matthew Bourne,
Erykah Badu,
The Stooges,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
The Index,
Quadrant,
Lyres,
Accadde A,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Litter,
The Smoke,
Y Pants,
Spoonie Gee,
Glenn Branca,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen,
Fear,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Searchers,
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
Gong,
Sound Behaviour,
Blossom Toes,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Japan,
Unwound,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Style,
The Motions,
Ludus,
Eric Copeland,
Sparks,
Faraquet,
The Selecter,
Television Personalities,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.