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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 T.S.O.L. to the dance 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Scientists,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
Toni Rubio,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
Brick,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Moss Icon,
This Heat,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Reagan Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
Underground Resistance,
Bush Tetras,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Popol Vuh,
AZ,
The Offenders,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Wings,
Sonic Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Jacques Brel,
UT,
B.T. Express,
Bronski Beat,
The Index,
Heaven 17,
Delta 5,
Scrapy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roy Ayers,
Al Stewart,
Pantaleimon,
Moebius,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
The Mojo Men,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Y Pants,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.