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 Djibouti and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Wells to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Last Poets,
The Cramps,
Minutemen,
Eli Mardock,
Patti Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Move,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Near,
Blake Baxter,
One Last Wish,
the Germs,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Wings,
Smog,
Pet Shop Boys,
MC5,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
Mantronix,
Gang Starr,
Rotary Connection,
ABC,
The Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Danielle Patucci,
Grauzone,
Quadrant,
The Pretty Things,
The Motions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
a-ha,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang On A Can,
The Modern Lovers,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Cal Tjader,
Carl Craig,
Nas,
Rites of Spring,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mummies,
Alton Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.