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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jacob Miller to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Zapp,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Inner City,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Coltrane,
Pagans,
Toni Rubio,
Ossler,
Al Stewart,
John Foxx,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Outsiders,
Wally Richardson,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Funkadelic,
Essential Logic,
Public Image Ltd.,
LL Cool J,
Jeru the Damaja,
Colin Newman,
The Fall,
The Cowsills,
R.M.O.,
Marine Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Second Layer,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Von Mondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Aural Exciters,
Faust,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Siglo XX,
The Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Nik Kershaw,
Minutemen,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.