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 Malawi and from Columbus.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Pantaleimon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Neon Judgement,
EPMD,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scan 7,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
The Divine Comedy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Heaven 17,
The Move,
Rapeman,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
Tears for Fears,
The Litter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
Pagans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Nas,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
H. Thieme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Archie Shepp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker,
Goldenarms,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
The Busters,
Crime,
Idris Muhammad,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
UT,
The Velvet Underground,
Sparks,
Magazine,
Jacques Brel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.