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 Latvia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grauzone,
The Offenders,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultravox,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Franke,
the Germs,
The Smoke,
Colin Newman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jimmy McGriff,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
Joensuu 1685,
Japan,
Stetsasonic,
Wings,
New Age Steppers,
The Blues Magoos,
L. Decosne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monks,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Jacob Miller,
Symarip,
Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Lower 48,
Goldenarms,
Wolf Eyes,
Kayak,
Sixth Finger,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cluster,
The Fuzztones,
The Modern Lovers,
The Selecter,
The Saints,
Judy Mowatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Enemy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
B.T. Express,
Silicon Teens,
Matthew Halsall,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Womack,
Pierre Henry,
Simply Red,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.