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 Liechtenstein and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 F. McDonald 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Flipper,
Eric B and Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Black Bananas,
Talk Talk,
The Durutti Column,
Barrington Levy,
D'Angelo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warren Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Barclay James Harvest,
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Pantytec,
The Divine Comedy,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Bang On A Can,
Sister Nancy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scion,
Radio Birdman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
Unwound,
Television Personalities,
Deadbeat,
Hardrive,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Essential Logic,
Excepter,
Tears for Fears,
Lower 48,
New Age Steppers,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lungfish,
Aural Exciters,
Porter Ricks,
The Walker Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
Minnie Riperton,
Eddi Front,
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
The Remains,
Roxy Music,
Underground Resistance,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.