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 Jordan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marmalade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Inner City,
U.S. Maple,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
Babytalk,
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Cameo,
Ossler,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blancmange,
Al Stewart,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
This Heat,
Cluster,
Porter Ricks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Young Marble Giants,
Cybotron,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grauzone,
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
Television,
These Immortal Souls,
Tubeway Army,
The Litter,
Stereo Dub,
Newcleus,
Accadde A,
Dennis Brown,
The Music Machine,
Massinfluence,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
The Techniques,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric Dolphy,
Alphaville,
Juan Atkins,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
Oblivians,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ohio Players,
Funkadelic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.