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 Lille.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Isaac Hayes,
Anakelly,
The Dead C,
Ponytail,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Johnny Clarke,
Easy Going,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Q and Not U,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Eve St. Jones,
Reagan Youth,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Association,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Urselle,
Ituana,
Monks,
Magazine,
The Music Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
Rekid,
Buzzcocks,
The Barracudas,
Fad Gadget,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Toni Rubio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alton Ellis,
Ultravox,
Funkadelic,
The Seeds,
Television,
John Foxx,
The Gap Band,
UT,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.