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 Niger and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Pretty Things to the rap 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Easy Going,
Jacob Miller,
Gichy Dan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
The Moody Blues,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bush Tetras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stereo Dub,
Cybotron,
Dark Day,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Grass Roots,
Technova,
Shuggie Otis,
Eddi Front,
Boredoms,
cv313,
Skriet,
Jeff Mills,
The Gun Club,
June of 44,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Max Romeo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Rapeman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
Heaven 17,
Skaos,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
The Standells,
DNA,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Camberwell Now,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Rufus Thomas,
Minny Pops,
Mr. Review,
Guru Guru,
The Smiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.