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 Dominican Republic and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Red Krayola,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skarface,
The Barracudas,
The Grass Roots,
Fat Boys,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
R.M.O.,
Franke,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Make Up,
Khruangbin,
Tears for Fears,
The Fall,
Liliput,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camouflage,
The Selecter,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
June Days,
Roger Hodgson,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gichy Dan,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
Absolute Body Control,
Ornette Coleman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
Howard Jones,
ABBA,
48th St. Collective,
Colin Newman,
Juan Atkins,
Porter Ricks,
The Saints,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Sneak,
Fear,
The Move,
Iggy Pop,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scratch Acid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hardrive,
Jacques Brel,
Erasure,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.