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 Stockholm.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Whodini to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Adolescents,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Searchers,
Funkadelic,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxette,
Jerry's Kids,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sound,
Sparks,
Ornette Coleman,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June of 44,
Scion,
The Birthday Party,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
cv313,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
The Tremeloes,
B.T. Express,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roger Hodgson,
Magazine,
Michelle Simonal,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The Music Machine,
MDC,
L. Decosne,
UT,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Fad Gadget,
The Monochrome Set,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Skarface,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minutemen,
PIL,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
Q and Not U,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.