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 Kiribati and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
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 theremin 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 Prince Buster to the dance 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks,
Funky Four + One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jawbox,
Eric Copeland,
Oneida,
Easy Going,
Glenn Branca,
Spandau Ballet,
ABBA,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Barracudas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crime,
Pagans,
Shuggie Otis,
Skarface,
Michelle Simonal,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Television,
Letta Mbulu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Dirtbombs,
Fat Boys,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Alice Coltrane,
Roxette,
Absolute Body Control,
Boz Scaggs,
Carl Craig,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Flag,
48th St. Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
Jacob Miller,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pantaleimon,
Dead Boys,
the Human League,
Mark Hollis,
Pussy Galore,
The Black Dice,
Arab on Radar,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Shoche,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.