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 Indonesia and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rock 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
OOIOO,
Neil Young,
Ultra Naté,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oblivians,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roxy Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Young Marble Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Names,
Mission of Burma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dead C,
Radiohead,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
Carl Craig,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dual Sessions,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Swans,
Blossom Toes,
Davy DMX,
Rekid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stereo Dub,
the Slits,
Lyres,
Babytalk,
Parry Music,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Age Steppers,
X-101,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Danielle Patucci,
L. Decosne,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Althea and Donna,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
Japan,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.