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 Jordan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Near to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Nils Olav,
Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
The Busters,
Magazine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
John Holt,
Marine Girls,
Ohio Players,
Amazonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
Can,
Khruangbin,
UT,
Bill Near,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blake Baxter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slave,
Robert Görl,
X-Ray Spex,
Absolute Body Control,
Dark Day,
The Buckinghams,
Alton Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scott Walker,
Black Pus,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
The Toasters,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
T. Rex,
the Association,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Howard Jones,
The United States of America,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Royal Trux,
Sparks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nirvana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soul II Soul,
Mark Hollis,
Iggy Pop,
Whodini,
Leonard Cohen,
Faraquet,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.