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 Nauru and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 New Age Steppers to the rap 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Youth Brigade,
Ten City,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sound Behaviour,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Joey Negro,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Bananas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barclay James Harvest,
E-Dancer,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Royal Trux,
Parry Music,
DJ Style,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
the Association,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Aural Exciters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bob Dylan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brass Construction,
Von Mondo,
Depeche Mode,
Kool Moe Dee,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
The Searchers,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
The Five Americans,
A Certain Ratio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Gang Dance,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.