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 Serbia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Buzzcocks to the dance 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Bad Manners,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Funkadelic,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Dead C,
The Happenings,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
The Associates,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Monolake,
Angry Samoans,
Little Man,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Black Bananas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barry Ungar,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joyce Sims,
Stockholm Monsters,
David McCallum,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
The Martian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultra Naté,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Maurizio,
Minor Threat,
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.