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 Brunei and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Walker Brothers to the funk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Basic Channel,
The Moleskins,
kango's stein massive,
Little Man,
Radio Birdman,
Blake Baxter,
Pagans,
Can,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
MDC,
The Walker Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
ABC,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
The Misunderstood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Green,
The Vogues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Erasure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
Infiniti,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Bananas,
Johnny Clarke,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra,
Lakeside,
The Zeros,
Dual Sessions,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Saccharine Trust,
Parry Music,
Flipper,
The Victims,
Barbara Tucker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.