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 Ghana and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
ABBA,
Aloha Tigers,
Thee Headcoats,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Organ,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
The Kinks,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sugar Minott,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
Terry Callier,
Camouflage,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pretty Things,
Grauzone,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Sherman,
Hoover,
The Skatalites,
The Stooges,
The Modern Lovers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mantronix,
Das Ding,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Association,
The Moody Blues,
The Golliwogs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blake Baxter,
The Tremeloes,
Flash Fearless,
Sarah Menescal,
The Raincoats,
Rites of Spring,
Heaven 17,
Con Funk Shun,
JFA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lower 48,
CMW,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
Mark Hollis,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.