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 South Sudan and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Schoolly D to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
T. Rex,
The Toasters,
The New Christs,
Visage,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Sheep,
Eurythmics,
Echospace,
Essential Logic,
D'Angelo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Toni Rubio,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Colin Newman,
Monolake,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
DJ Style,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Steve Hackett,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
The Remains,
Schoolly D,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
CMW,
Clear Light,
Excepter,
Slave,
Aaron Thompson,
the Association,
The Zeros,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
Blake Baxter,
Pantaleimon,
Mad Mike,
Lower 48,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.