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 Bolivia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Don Cherry,
Oneida,
Electric Prunes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Count Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Traffic Nightmare,
KRS-One,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
Bobby Sherman,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Youth Brigade,
Deakin,
D'Angelo,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
New Order,
Bauhaus,
Qualms,
The Doors,
Juan Atkins,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Funkadelic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott Heron,
World's Most,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marmalade,
Scion,
Sam Rivers,
David Bowie,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang of Four,
The Barracudas,
T. Rex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
Tomorrow,
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.