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 Brazil 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rakim to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Camouflage,
D'Angelo,
Silicon Teens,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slackers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young,
Mission of Burma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
PIL,
Archie Shepp,
Hardrive,
Joy Division,
Depeche Mode,
Yusef Lateef,
Gabor Szabo,
Piero Umiliani,
Blancmange,
Lakeside,
E-Dancer,
Nick Fraelich,
KRS-One,
Chris & Cosey,
Television,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Almond,
Severed Heads,
The Mojo Men,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Rotary Connection,
Masters at Work,
Colin Newman,
The American Breed,
Index,
Warsaw,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-Ray Spex,
Fela Kuti,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soulsonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Japan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Infiniti,
Drexciya,
The Trojans,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.