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 Indonesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Carl Craig to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Scrapy,
Main Source,
The Zeros,
Quadrant,
Bauhaus,
Morten Harket,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Almond,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
Pantaleimon,
Minny Pops,
The Gladiators,
Deepchord,
DJ Style,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Aloha Tigers,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Christie,
Sparks,
Motorama,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
Derrick Morgan,
Lakeside,
Gang Green,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Grass Roots,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Joy Division,
The Birthday Party,
The Fortunes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mary Jane Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.