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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Blake Baxter to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Bourne,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Starr,
Excepter,
Icehouse,
Joensuu 1685,
The Skatalites,
The Offenders,
Aaron Thompson,
Fela Kuti,
H. Thieme,
Letta Mbulu,
Archie Shepp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Maurizio,
Ponytail,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
JFA,
James White and The Blacks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Davy DMX,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
The Young Rascals,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mojo Men,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Move,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crash Course in Science,
Negative Approach,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
Radio Birdman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Count Five,
UT,
Black Moon,
Max Romeo,
The Gories,
Eric Copeland,
Vainqueur,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
The Dirtbombs,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.