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 Ireland and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dirtbombs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Technova,
Mark Hollis,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
48th St. Collective,
Make Up,
Marine Girls,
AZ,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun City Girls,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Altered Images,
Magazine,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brick,
Neu!,
Little Man,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
Vainqueur,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Quando Quango,
David Axelrod,
Dawn Penn,
Glambeats Corp.,
Patti Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Camouflage,
Bobby Womack,
The Sound,
June of 44,
Magma,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q65,
The Busters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry's Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Fear,
Gil Scott Heron,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Joe Finger,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.