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 Djibouti and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Star Department to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang On A Can,
Fad Gadget,
Mo-Dettes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
Angry Samoans,
The Tremeloes,
Whodini,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moody Blues,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Main Source,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Steve Hackett,
The Buckinghams,
John Cale,
Neu!,
Scott Walker,
UT,
Pylon,
Faraquet,
Scion,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultravox,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rufus Thomas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantytec,
Tres Demented,
DJ Style,
Carl Craig,
Isaac Hayes,
Eve St. Jones,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aural Exciters,
Icehouse,
Bootsy Collins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
The Offenders,
Pantaleimon,
Patti Smith,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
Donny Hathaway,
The Pop Group,
Inner City,
Anthony Braxton,
Oneida,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.