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 Iceland and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 rap 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Can,
Brand Nubian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Swell Maps,
Juan Atkins,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Little Man,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Main Source,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronnie Foster,
Maleditus Sound,
Moebius,
The United States of America,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scan 7,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Almond,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bob Dylan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Motorama,
the Soft Cell,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
The Moleskins,
The Durutti Column,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Happenings,
Pantytec,
John Foxx,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Pop Group,
Animal Collective,
The Associates,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Niagra,
The Gap Band,
Zero Boys,
Kas Product,
The New Christs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fuzztones,
The Monochrome Set,
Schoolly D,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Misunderstood,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.