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 Thailand and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Soft Machine,
Minor Threat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Porter Ricks,
Franke,
The Mummies,
Fluxion,
The Selecter,
Mad Mike,
Cymande,
DJ Style,
Black Bananas,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Matthew Bourne,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rosa Yemen,
Niagra,
Can,
Simply Red,
Joe Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
Ludus,
The Divine Comedy,
Terrestrial Tones,
L. Decosne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
Rapeman,
10cc,
JFA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry's Kids,
New Order,
The Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Don Cherry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marvin Gaye,
Model 500,
The Motions,
Laurel Aitken,
Organ,
Clear Light,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
U.S. Maple,
Bronski Beat,
Audionom,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.