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 Suriname and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Duran Duran to the disco 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultravox,
Joey Negro,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
The Techniques,
X-Ray Spex,
Rosa Yemen,
Eurythmics,
Danielle Patucci,
Royal Trux,
Godley & Creme,
the Normal,
The Doors,
Pole,
Albert Ayler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crime,
The Real Kids,
R.M.O.,
Barry Ungar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Darondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cameo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Count Five,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Mo-Dettes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Fear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Shadows of Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
Lower 48,
Mantronix,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gories,
the Germs,
The Martian,
Cluster,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.