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 Jordan and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Carl Craig to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Durutti Column,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Sonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Tomorrow,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Gabor Szabo,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Section 25,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Metal Thangz,
T.S.O.L.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flash Fearless,
Pere Ubu,
Ultravox,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
Pantytec,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bush Tetras,
Grauzone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Visage,
Max Romeo,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Lynne,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Iggy Pop,
FM Einheit,
Dual Sessions,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.