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 Guyana and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Association to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Black Dice,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiohead,
Vladislav Delay,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blancmange,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Drexciya,
Bobby Sherman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
The United States of America,
These Immortal Souls,
Ituana,
Hasil Adkins,
Desert Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Con Funk Shun,
Half Japanese,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
cv313,
Deepchord,
Moebius,
Crime,
The Young Rascals,
Hardrive,
Urselle,
Skarface,
Barbara Tucker,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
The Last Poets,
Sandy B,
Sugar Minott,
Warren Ellis,
the Normal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.