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 Vietnam and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eden Ahbez to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Shadows of Knight,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brothers Johnson,
F. McDonald,
China Crisis,
Technova,
Brand Nubian,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
Y Pants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Grass Roots,
Moebius,
David McCallum,
The J.B.'s,
Aural Exciters,
Archie Shepp,
Soft Machine,
Urselle,
Rekid,
Dark Day,
Marine Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
MDC,
Bill Near,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
The American Breed,
Albert Ayler,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
The United States of America,
Crash Course in Science,
June of 44,
Inner City,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cure,
Warsaw,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
Zapp,
Mad Mike,
The Blackbyrds,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
The Move,
Pole,
Maurizio,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.