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 Vanuatu and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Japan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Alice Coltrane,
Cluster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Cybotron,
Grey Daturas,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jacob Miller,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gong,
Stiv Bators,
The Five Americans,
Magazine,
Moebius,
The Skatalites,
Hashim,
The Young Rascals,
Quadrant,
Fatback Band,
Roxette,
Darondo,
Malaria!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aloha Tigers,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Smog,
Technova,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pere Ubu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
Livin' Joy,
Freddie Wadling,
DNA,
Black Flag,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Pulsallama,
The Shadows of Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
The Cure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
X-Ray Spex,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.