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 Grenada and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Zeros to the grime 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 Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Green,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Dual Sessions,
Cymande,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dead C,
Index,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Panda Bear,
Deepchord,
Nils Olav,
Sam Rivers,
MC5,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Deadbeat,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bill Wells,
Hoover,
Flash Fearless,
Pagans,
Roxette,
Newcleus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brass Construction,
Delta 5,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Invisible,
Joey Negro,
June Days,
Babytalk,
a-ha,
The Slits,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Donald Byrd,
Motorama,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang of Four,
Technova,
Crispian St. Peters,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marine Girls,
Warsaw,
Heaven 17,
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.