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 Brunei and from London.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
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 theremin 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 Camberwell Now to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cure,
Neu!,
The Modern Lovers,
Pussy Galore,
Maurizio,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
FM Einheit,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris Corsano,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Wells,
D'Angelo,
Monolake,
Jeff Mills,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Quando Quango,
Index,
Television Personalities,
DNA,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marine Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Divine Comedy,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
Isaac Hayes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Royal Trux,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Ohio Players,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.