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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Kenny Larkin to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Isaac Hayes,
Hot Snakes,
Buzzcocks,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
John Holt,
Anakelly,
Joey Negro,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
Theoretical Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Cybotron,
Al Stewart,
Echospace,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Eli Mardock,
Scratch Acid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Hood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kayak,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Smiths,
Icehouse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scrapy,
Con Funk Shun,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Derrick May,
Livin' Joy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fat Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
T. Rex,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
Yusef Lateef,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eddi Front,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Finger,
Marc Almond,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.