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 Grenada and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rekid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Coltrane,
Can,
The Golliwogs,
Godley & Creme,
Minnie Riperton,
K-Klass,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lucky Dragons,
Warsaw,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick Morgan,
The Buckinghams,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Angels of Light,
Amazonics,
Robert Hood,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
The Fuzztones,
Juan Atkins,
The Gladiators,
UT,
10cc,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mojo Men,
the Association,
John Holt,
The Neon Judgement,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Techniques,
Jacob Miller,
David Bowie,
Warren Ellis,
Intrusion,
Blancmange,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Wells,
Visage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
Bush Tetras,
Rotary Connection,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.