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 Brunei and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 T.S.O.L. to the punk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cure,
The Monochrome Set,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Agitation Free,
cv313,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Intrusion,
Eddi Front,
The Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Organ,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Litter,
Surgeon,
Drexciya,
The Pretty Things,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sixth Finger,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Todd Terry,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Kool Moe Dee,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
UT,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Saccharine Trust,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
Crash Course in Science,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Modern Lovers,
Howard Jones,
Guru Guru,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.