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 Madagascar and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Television Personalities to the dance 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
E-Dancer,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Parrish,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
Babytalk,
Stereo Dub,
Fear,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Japan,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Byrd,
The Angels of Light,
Siglo XX,
Boredoms,
Warsaw,
Black Bananas,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
UT,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
Lyres,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Trojans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Buckinghams,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Womack,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Blancmange,
Buzzcocks,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Görl,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doors,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.