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 Pakistan and from Stockholm.
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 New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 The Alarm Clocks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cluster,
Mantronix,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
KRS-One,
The Tremeloes,
Colin Newman,
Eric Copeland,
Donny Hathaway,
The Searchers,
The Motions,
Severed Heads,
Brass Construction,
Ohio Players,
Radiopuhelimet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Unwound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gun Club,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Byron Stingily,
Jawbox,
Von Mondo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kas Product,
Soulsonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
The Litter,
The Move,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Ronnie Foster,
Shoche,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Görl,
Erykah Badu,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
Yusef Lateef,
Camberwell Now,
Drexciya,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Golliwogs,
Absolute Body Control,
Shuggie Otis,
Minutemen,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.