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 Nepal and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nick Fraelich to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Qualms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Saints,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Buzzcocks,
Mars,
JFA,
Second Layer,
Can,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Human League,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Slave,
Lightning Bolt,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mojo Men,
the Normal,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
The Zeros,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kenny Larkin,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dead C,
Mantronix,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
Con Funk Shun,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.