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 Bahamas and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the grime 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
a-ha,
The Gap Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
MC5,
The Electric Prunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barry Ungar,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
New York Dolls,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Technova,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Boredoms,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
Saccharine Trust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
L. Decosne,
The Skatalites,
The Wake,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Faust,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Martian,
Quando Quango,
Traffic Nightmare,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Music Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Alton Ellis,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.