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 Guinea and from New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Simply Red,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Minutemen,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Warsaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
Kerrie Biddell,
Massinfluence,
Minnie Riperton,
Q and Not U,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camouflage,
The Gories,
Kayak,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Con Funk Shun,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
Jeff Lynne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Moby Grape,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
Davy DMX,
The Red Krayola,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Derrick Morgan,
Alison Limerick,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
Agent Orange,
Royal Trux,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
One Last Wish,
Saccharine Trust,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bauhaus,
The J.B.'s,
Archie Shepp,
The Litter,
The Last Poets,
Peter and Kerry,
The Residents,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.