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 Liechtenstein and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Magazine to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker,
The Remains,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
The Tremeloes,
Surgeon,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
CMW,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Selecter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Near,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
Liliput,
Magma,
Vladislav Delay,
Newcleus,
Charles Mingus,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ornette Coleman,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
Soul Sonic Force,
Flipper,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Zapp,
Slave,
L. Decosne,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Michelle Simonal,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Flesh Eaters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Steve Hackett,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.