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 Honduras and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Offenders to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
ABC,
Rapeman,
Minny Pops,
Bush Tetras,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spandau Ballet,
Brothers Johnson,
A Certain Ratio,
The Durutti Column,
Shoche,
Lee Hazlewood,
Josef K,
JFA,
The Gladiators,
Young Marble Giants,
The Leaves,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marmalade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aural Exciters,
Todd Terry,
Donny Hathaway,
Bauhaus,
Subhumans,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marshall Jefferson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Inner City,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Freddie Wadling,
Mad Mike,
Glenn Branca,
Excepter,
Moebius,
June of 44,
Hasil Adkins,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Erykah Badu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cramps,
Alphaville,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.