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 Uzbekistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ice-T to the grunge 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Boredoms,
Davy DMX,
Byron Stingily,
The Mummies,
Sonic Youth,
Henry Cow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skaos,
Moebius,
Bluetip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
U.S. Maple,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Zeros,
Pharoah Sanders,
In Retrospect,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Babytalk,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moleskins,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Aural Exciters,
Harmonia,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
Joy Division,
Ponytail,
Cybotron,
Bang On A Can,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
Visage,
Quadrant,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed,
Los Fastidios,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Carl Craig,
Pantaleimon,
The Birthday Party,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roger Hodgson,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minnie Riperton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.