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 Germany and from Spokane.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gang Starr to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
James White and The Blacks,
Boz Scaggs,
The Searchers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
The Cure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Public Enemy,
Patti Smith,
Harmonia,
Cluster,
Dawn Penn,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Main Source,
the Normal,
Rakim,
Sound Behaviour,
Cymande,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mission of Burma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Index,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick May,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mummies,
Q and Not U,
The Real Kids,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Echospace,
Yellowson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monks,
The Five Americans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Spoonie Gee,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.