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 Taiwan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Subhumans to the funk 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Bang On A Can,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Clarke,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lucky Dragons,
DJ Style,
Skaos,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
The Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Radio Birdman,
Youth Brigade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Fear,
Brothers Johnson,
Matthew Halsall,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
Bush Tetras,
the Slits,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sugar Minott,
Carl Craig,
Tommy Roe,
Cybotron,
Rapeman,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-101,
Rod Modell,
Gang Starr,
Das Ding,
Kerri Chandler,
Tomorrow,
Erasure,
Suburban Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Monks,
Bauhaus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
The Sonics,
AZ,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
John Lydon,
Yusef Lateef,
Soul II Soul,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.