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 Equatorial Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the techno 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Ice-T,
Albert Ayler,
Technova,
Mad Mike,
Josef K,
The United States of America,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Oneida,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barrington Levy,
H. Thieme,
UT,
the Normal,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Second Layer,
Bush Tetras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Starr,
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joy Division,
Ludus,
Fatback Band,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun City Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smoke,
The Blackbyrds,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
ABC,
Suicide,
Moby Grape,
Sex Pistols,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Sherman,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.