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 Seychelles and from Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fatback Band to the grime 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Litter,
Q65,
48th St. Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Bobby Sherman,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
Mark Hollis,
Sun Ra,
The Gap Band,
Radiohead,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
The Leaves,
Cybotron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
Arab on Radar,
Heaven 17,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
Severed Heads,
Fugazi,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
Adolescents,
Moss Icon,
The Stooges,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry,
Wolf Eyes,
Marmalade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pantaleimon,
Cameo,
The Zeros,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Certain Ratio,
Sonny Sharrock,
KRS-One,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.