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 Norway and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Agitation Free to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Minor Threat,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeru the Damaja,
FM Einheit,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
LL Cool J,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Echospace,
the Association,
Procol Harum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Fela Kuti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eden Ahbez,
Mandrill,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Divine Comedy,
Scan 7,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
Altered Images,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Clear Light,
Toni Rubio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Severed Heads,
Livin' Joy,
Stetsasonic,
Althea and Donna,
Agitation Free,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
Prince Buster,
Colin Newman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erasure,
Basic Channel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Country Teasers,
Dark Day,
Yusef Lateef,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.