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 Uruguay and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 linndrum 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the crunk 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blake Baxter,
Absolute Body Control,
Zapp,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Kinks,
Tommy Roe,
June of 44,
Rotary Connection,
Harmonia,
ABBA,
Boz Scaggs,
Duran Duran,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Outsiders,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
Newcleus,
Joe Finger,
DJ Sneak,
The Associates,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
Lower 48,
Barrington Levy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cymande,
UT,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
Grey Daturas,
Alphaville,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Divine Comedy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
One Last Wish,
F. McDonald,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
The Names,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Infiniti,
Gang of Four,
Organ,
Motorama,
Ken Boothe,
Surgeon,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.