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 Croatia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Symarip,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The J.B.'s,
The Wake,
Jacques Brel,
Supertramp,
The Index,
The Invisible,
The Dead C,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Lightning Bolt,
Echospace,
This Heat,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners,
The Last Poets,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Von Mondo,
Fela Kuti,
Newcleus,
Scratch Acid,
the Swans,
The Martian,
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
Livin' Joy,
Quantec,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
Babytalk,
Pylon,
Crime,
Country Teasers,
Cameo,
Black Moon,
Barry Ungar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Shoche,
Joe Finger,
The Trojans,
LL Cool J,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gong,
Sixth Finger,
Danielle Patucci,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.