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 Turkey and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Donald Byrd to the grunge 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Prince Buster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
The Invisible,
the Normal,
Q65,
ABC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-101,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
Siglo XX,
June of 44,
Fugazi,
Parry Music,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
Barrington Levy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
Tim Buckley,
Q and Not U,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fat Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Piero Umiliani,
The Stooges,
Basic Channel,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Divine Comedy,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brothers Johnson,
John Holt,
Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suicide,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Fear,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.