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 Pakistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moleskins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
Vladislav Delay,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brothers Johnson,
Tomorrow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Beau Brummels,
Pulsallama,
The Leaves,
Con Funk Shun,
Kerri Chandler,
Slick Rick,
John Foxx,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Godley & Creme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ken Boothe,
Ohio Players,
Brick,
Loose Ends,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Kurtis Blow,
Mandrill,
AZ,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Wake,
the Human League,
Heaven 17,
Deadbeat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Inner City,
Black Moon,
Desert Stars,
Liliput,
Ronan,
Franke,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.