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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 The Music Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
48th St. Collective,
Hardrive,
Bluetip,
Cluster,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flash Fearless,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
Siglo XX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Patti Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rod Modell,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Technova,
Metal Thangz,
Rotary Connection,
Warsaw,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantytec,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
Chris Corsano,
Mantronix,
The Knickerbockers,
the Association,
Harpers Bizarre,
Von Mondo,
Pulsallama,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
The Invisible,
Nico,
The Trojans,
Au Pairs,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
The Music Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Howard Jones,
T. Rex,
PIL,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Enemy,
Funky Four + One,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Wake,
Kerri Chandler,
The Move,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.