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 Cape Verde and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock,
Buzzcocks,
Guru Guru,
MC5,
Susan Cadogan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
The Knickerbockers,
Stetsasonic,
Danielle Patucci,
The Residents,
Sällskapet,
Bang On A Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Enemy,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
Minny Pops,
Connie Case,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
Surgeon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
Davy DMX,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deakin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül II,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Organ,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Smooth,
Pulsallama,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Theoretical Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.