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 Mauritius 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Martian to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
The Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
H. Thieme,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fad Gadget,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
The Trojans,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Prince Buster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
Joy Division,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Leaves,
Johnny Osbourne,
Graham Central Station,
Von Mondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantytec,
Tropical Tobacco,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
Liliput,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Tim Buckley,
The Tremeloes,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Slick Rick,
Boredoms,
Ultravox,
T. Rex,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Unwound,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.