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 Philippines and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slackers to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
Lower 48,
The Black Dice,
Juan Atkins,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blossom Toes,
48th St. Collective,
Animal Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Association,
Dave Gahan,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Second Layer,
Erasure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Hutcherson,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Roxy Music,
Essential Logic,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mummies,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
Slick Rick,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Radio Birdman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bob Dylan,
The Index,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crooked Eye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
The Moody Blues,
Sister Nancy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wings,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.