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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 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 Adolescents to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Maurizio,
ABC,
The United States of America,
Gang Green,
Eric Copeland,
Lightning Bolt,
Sparks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camberwell Now,
Dark Day,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
X-102,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skaos,
Excepter,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mummies,
Skarface,
Max Romeo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bronski Beat,
Make Up,
Easy Going,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Martian,
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sister Nancy,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James White and The Blacks,
the Bar-Kays,
Sandy B,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fear,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
Essential Logic,
New Age Steppers,
Desert Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Half Japanese,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.