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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mummies to the dance 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oneida,
Deepchord,
Infiniti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amon Düül II,
Q65,
Qualms,
The Trojans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra,
Fugazi,
K-Klass,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Das Ding,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yaz,
The Seeds,
Flash Fearless,
The Vogues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
PIL,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brothers Johnson,
Soft Machine,
Technova,
Ohio Players,
the Normal,
X-102,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
Spoonie Gee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rotary Connection,
Vainqueur,
Bob Dylan,
the Association,
Fat Boys,
Talk Talk,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
OOIOO,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Rites of Spring,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.