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 Laos and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gun Club to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
Spandau Ballet,
Grauzone,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
Ten City,
Marmalade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
F. McDonald,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
Amazonics,
The Last Poets,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suicide,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Guru Guru,
10cc,
Siglo XX,
Carl Craig,
The Sound,
Faraquet,
The Velvet Underground,
Idris Muhammad,
Negative Approach,
Whodini,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Supertramp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Smooth,
Darondo,
Neil Young,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Finger,
Lalann,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
EPMD,
Quadrant,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.