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 Zambia 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joe Smooth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Guru Guru,
Max Romeo,
Lyres,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Iggy Pop,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
Sixth Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Move,
Pole,
Stereo Dub,
Oneida,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Teasers,
CMW,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Finger,
Television Personalities,
Faust,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantytec,
Junior Murvin,
The Modern Lovers,
The Toasters,
Basic Channel,
Duran Duran,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
Minutemen,
Hoover,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quantec,
Rosa Yemen,
Scan 7,
The American Breed,
Roger Hodgson,
Freddie Wadling,
The Golliwogs,
Brick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swell Maps,
Aswad,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.