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 Madagascar and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sixth Finger to the disco 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Seeds,
AZ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
MC5,
Basic Channel,
Lucky Dragons,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delta 5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Arab on Radar,
Fluxion,
The Skatalites,
Scrapy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lower 48,
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
The Fortunes,
Supertramp,
JFA,
Television Personalities,
Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Idris Muhammad,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zero Boys,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Tubeway Army,
A Certain Ratio,
The Golliwogs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Gichy Dan,
Eve St. Jones,
Das Ding,
Freddie Wadling,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Sarah Menescal,
Ludus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alice Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
The Grass Roots,
Skriet,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.