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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Amon Düül II to the crunk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One,
Masters at Work,
This Heat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bad Manners,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
The Divine Comedy,
Albert Ayler,
The Birthday Party,
World's Most,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sparks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Litter,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slackers,
Hot Snakes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kas Product,
Marvin Gaye,
Theoretical Girls,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roger Hodgson,
JFA,
The Durutti Column,
Nik Kershaw,
Metal Thangz,
Index,
AZ,
Sällskapet,
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
X-102,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Order,
Rotary Connection,
Vainqueur,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aaron Thompson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Von Mondo,
Moss Icon,
the Normal,
Eve St. Jones,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Dark Day,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.