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 Slovakia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Joensuu 1685 to the jazz 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Misunderstood,
Deakin,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Lydon,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Ituana,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Khruangbin,
Hashim,
L. Decosne,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The New Christs,
Byron Stingily,
Erykah Badu,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
Rod Modell,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
Porter Ricks,
Michelle Simonal,
Symarip,
Joyce Sims,
The Wake,
The Selecter,
Iggy Pop,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lindisfarne,
Kurtis Blow,
Soft Machine,
China Crisis,
Barry Ungar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Don Cherry,
Cluster,
Schoolly D,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scientists,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Drexciya,
Neu!,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Seeds,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.