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 Botswana and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 KRS-One 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Flamin' Groovies,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Organ,
Black Bananas,
Chris & Cosey,
Juan Atkins,
Peter & Gordon,
The American Breed,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Moleskins,
Pantaleimon,
Drive Like Jehu,
In Retrospect,
Matthew Bourne,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Junior Murvin,
Hot Snakes,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Make Up,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
Gong,
Fatback Band,
Suicide,
Saccharine Trust,
Man Parrish,
Wings,
Neu!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
cv313,
Ronan,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Hoover,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
The Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
The Invisible,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
Blossom Toes,
Kayak,
Soulsonic Force,
Bluetip,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
The Motions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.