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 Dominica and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Unrelated Segments to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masters at Work,
The Smoke,
Donald Byrd,
Metal Thangz,
Technova,
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Derrick Morgan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
Fear,
Kool Moe Dee,
10cc,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantaleimon,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crash Course in Science,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Wells,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
L. Decosne,
Althea and Donna,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Knickerbockers,
The Toasters,
Tom Boy,
Barry Ungar,
Charles Mingus,
the Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
Delta 5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Circle Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Archie Shepp,
Groovy Waters,
Stockholm Monsters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deadbeat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
Blake Baxter,
Intrusion,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.