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 Cyprus and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Barry Ungar to the grime 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quando Quango,
JFA,
DJ Sneak,
Cameo,
Nico,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dirtbombs,
Lungfish,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fugs,
Scientists,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cal Tjader,
Mandrill,
Toni Rubio,
48th St. Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moleskins,
The Skatalites,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gastr Del Sol,
LL Cool J,
David Bowie,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minor Threat,
UT,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
Bauhaus,
Swans,
The Young Rascals,
Qualms,
The Barracudas,
Skriet,
Dual Sessions,
Groovy Waters,
The Buckinghams,
The Human League,
The Wake,
Liliput,
Lou Christie,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Starr,
Drexciya,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ituana,
Yellowson,
Byron Stingily,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monolake,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.