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 San Marino and from London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 Tommy Roe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
New Age Steppers,
Newcleus,
Tres Demented,
The Golliwogs,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
Smog,
The Standells,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Bourne,
The Happenings,
Don Cherry,
Minor Threat,
Robert Görl,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals,
R.M.O.,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
Symarip,
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Wake,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cowsills,
The Gap Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ice-T,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quantec,
Bobby Sherman,
Nico,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Ponytail,
Morten Harket,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
June of 44,
the Sonics,
Mars,
DJ Style,
Von Mondo,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.