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 Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
KRS-One,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Anakelly,
The Cramps,
Arab on Radar,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Soft Cell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cure,
Cymande,
The Birthday Party,
the Association,
The Selecter,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
Bauhaus,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mummies,
Lakeside,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Hill,
Fugazi,
Television Personalities,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Animal Collective,
The Evens,
F. McDonald,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fad Gadget,
Black Moon,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare,
Todd Rundgren,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Joe Finger,
Jacob Miller,
Derrick Morgan,
Lucky Dragons,
Steve Hackett,
The Black Dice,
Schoolly D,
Nirvana,
Make Up,
Eden Ahbez,
Faraquet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.