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 Ecuador and from London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Slits to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Freddie Wadling,
Groovy Waters,
Monolake,
The Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Wings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
Mo-Dettes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Urselle,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Hashim,
Kerri Chandler,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
OOIOO,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
The Standells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Alice Coltrane,
June of 44,
Roxy Music,
LL Cool J,
Joey Negro,
Popol Vuh,
EPMD,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
Adolescents,
Procol Harum,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.