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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vogues to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Suicide,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
Amazonics,
OOIOO,
Sällskapet,
Mandrill,
Nils Olav,
Easy Going,
Johnny Clarke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Teasers,
The Raincoats,
Lightning Bolt,
Wings,
DJ Style,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
Little Man,
Swell Maps,
Joyce Sims,
Half Japanese,
Bill Wells,
Fatback Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nirvana,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Rakim,
Harmonia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
AZ,
Youth Brigade,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
Eddi Front,
Bush Tetras,
Harry Pussy,
Metal Thangz,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.