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 Guatemala and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Dirtbombs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Cluster,
Kaleidoscope,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Ossler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Pus,
Jawbox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rotary Connection,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks,
Sarah Menescal,
Warren Ellis,
David McCallum,
CMW,
One Last Wish,
Section 25,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Toni Rubio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gabor Szabo,
The Stooges,
Black Bananas,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Byron Stingily,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
10cc,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Christie,
The Cure,
Jeff Lynne,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric Dolphy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
cv313,
Magazine,
Thompson Twins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.