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 Andorra and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eddi Front to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Hoover,
Rekid,
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Hill,
Delon & Dalcan,
Parry Music,
ABC,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
Shoche,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Porter Ricks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minnie Riperton,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Ice-T,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Tropical Tobacco,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scan 7,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Hot Snakes,
EPMD,
Skarface,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
Junior Murvin,
These Immortal Souls,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
Nils Olav,
Vainqueur,
Leonard Cohen,
Gong,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
Los Fastidios,
David Axelrod,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wire,
The Young Rascals,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.