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 Ivory Coast and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bush Tetras,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Y Pants,
Minny Pops,
Wolf Eyes,
The Invisible,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Terry Callier,
The Young Rascals,
Blake Baxter,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Sex Pistols,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fluxion,
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Deepchord,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Silicon Teens,
Babytalk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Main Source,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
The Searchers,
Buzzcocks,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rekid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echospace,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
Parry Music,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang On A Can,
Metal Thangz,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.