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 Bahamas and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David McCallum to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Marmalade,
Matthew Halsall,
Brand Nubian,
The Mummies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Lungfish,
Fear,
Lalann,
Little Man,
Eric Copeland,
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monochrome Set,
Can,
Bootsy Collins,
John Holt,
The Fuzztones,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
AZ,
Outsiders,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
Sex Pistols,
Alphaville,
Tres Demented,
Symarip,
Iggy Pop,
Joey Negro,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wally Richardson,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Basic Channel,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Q and Not U,
Pantaleimon,
Suburban Knight,
Television,
Lakeside,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
The Victims,
The Slits,
Gastr Del Sol,
This Heat,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.