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 Guyana and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Parry Music to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Arcadia,
Country Teasers,
Pole,
Althea and Donna,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minutemen,
Goldenarms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalann,
One Last Wish,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Swans,
The Divine Comedy,
Masters at Work,
Yellowson,
Rakim,
Marmalade,
The Grass Roots,
Bronski Beat,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Names,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
Aloha Tigers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
Franke,
Scion,
Cymande,
OOIOO,
Boredoms,
Organ,
Little Man,
Ken Boothe,
Darondo,
John Lydon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
Lindisfarne,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
Icehouse,
Audionom,
Hardrive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Funky Four + One,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.