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 Belgium and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
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,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
Althea and Donna,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks,
Chris Corsano,
Amon Düül II,
Man Parrish,
The Knickerbockers,
Liliput,
Gang of Four,
Suicide,
H. Thieme,
The Misunderstood,
Brothers Johnson,
Dave Gahan,
Harry Pussy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Rakim,
Iggy Pop,
Silicon Teens,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
Mandrill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sight & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Reuben Wilson,
Funky Four + One,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skaos,
Second Layer,
Saccharine Trust,
Pylon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Motions,
The Star Department,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minor Threat,
Soul II Soul,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
The Fall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ludus,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
Graham Central Station,
MC5,
Flipper,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.