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 Hungary and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Harmonia,
Pagans,
Cluster,
The Happenings,
The Vogues,
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Slick Rick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thompson Twins,
Stereo Dub,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Q65,
John Foxx,
Shuggie Otis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Slits,
Pulsallama,
Half Japanese,
The Last Poets,
Althea and Donna,
The Index,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Byrd,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
Funkadelic,
The Monks,
Rod Modell,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
Rites of Spring,
Mantronix,
Bill Near,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
Pussy Galore,
cv313,
Lou Christie,
Oneida,
Connie Case,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.