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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shuggie Otis to the funk 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
A Certain Ratio,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Bourne,
Monks,
The Mojo Men,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
DNA,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Neu!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ituana,
Unrelated Segments,
Sugar Minott,
The Mummies,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
Boz Scaggs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Suicide,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Crime,
The Moody Blues,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
Alton Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minny Pops,
The Techniques,
The Blackbyrds,
Public Enemy,
Quando Quango,
China Crisis,
Q and Not U,
X-101,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stetsasonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Standells,
Magazine,
Thee Headcoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.