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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eli Mardock to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Green,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roxy Music,
David McCallum,
Soul II Soul,
The Monks,
Surgeon,
Davy DMX,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dirtbombs,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
Technova,
Reuben Wilson,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
The Blackbyrds,
K-Klass,
The Cure,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Kurtis Blow,
Neil Young,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
The Saints,
The Gun Club,
Gong,
Goldenarms,
Black Flag,
Mary Jane Girls,
Quantec,
Mo-Dettes,
Chrome,
The Slits,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra,
Max Romeo,
Donald Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Animal Collective,
The Kinks,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Scott Walker,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.