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 Denmark and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bronski Beat,
Subhumans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zero Boys,
Goldenarms,
Infiniti,
The Invisible,
The Mojo Men,
Urselle,
Bob Dylan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy Collins,
Wings,
Stetsasonic,
Erykah Badu,
Motorama,
The Modern Lovers,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
Alice Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
Moss Icon,
Von Mondo,
Brick,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
Delta 5,
Scion,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
FM Einheit,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Moby Grape,
Simply Red,
Rod Modell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Clarke,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
Agent Orange,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
Circle Jerks,
Index,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.