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 Cape Verde and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Liliput to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Amazonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The New Christs,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Green,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Lydon,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Funkadelic,
Ituana,
Hardrive,
The Offenders,
Rosa Yemen,
Byron Stingily,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roy Ayers,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
Deadbeat,
The Walker Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
Marc Almond,
the Bar-Kays,
La Düsseldorf,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Depeche Mode,
The Flesh Eaters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
Sällskapet,
Accadde A,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Whodini,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake,
The Fuzztones,
Duran Duran,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.