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 France and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Dual Sessions to the techno 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
H. Thieme,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
Maurizio,
Swans,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Sound,
Unwound,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Soul Sonic Force,
The United States of America,
Suicide,
Nas,
Sun Ra,
Q and Not U,
Eli Mardock,
Simply Red,
Joy Division,
Soulsonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gun Club,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Osbourne,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
Infiniti,
DJ Style,
DNA,
Lyres,
Lightning Bolt,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Holt,
Intrusion,
Gang of Four,
Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
Carl Craig,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Martian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Bar-Kays,
Pulsallama,
Ituana,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.