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 Kuwait and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Hasil Adkins to the punk 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monolake,
Urselle,
Susan Cadogan,
T.S.O.L.,
Sixth Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scan 7,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Golliwogs,
Metal Thangz,
Alison Limerick,
The Kinks,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mars,
The Beau Brummels,
Angry Samoans,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dead C,
The Wake,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Quantec,
Tres Demented,
the Human League,
Easy Going,
The Monochrome Set,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Lyres,
Black Sheep,
Nils Olav,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
The Misunderstood,
Gang of Four,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
Funkadelic,
Joey Negro,
John Foxx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
UT,
Erykah Badu,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.