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 Uruguay 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the funk 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
Ice-T,
Camberwell Now,
Neu!,
Fatback Band,
Radiohead,
Joy Division,
Agent Orange,
The Pop Group,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
The Tremeloes,
Porter Ricks,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
JFA,
The J.B.'s,
Donny Hathaway,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Talk Talk,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Sherman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Smog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Deepchord,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Bourne,
Skarface,
The Seeds,
Deadbeat,
Joe Finger,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
a-ha,
Siglo XX,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.