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 Chad and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Tommy Roe,
U.S. Maple,
Ralphi Rosario,
Babytalk,
Sixth Finger,
Scan 7,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang of Four,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
AZ,
The Blues Magoos,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantaleimon,
ABBA,
Infiniti,
Dave Gahan,
Vainqueur,
Steve Hackett,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
Siglo XX,
Jawbox,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Kaleidoscope,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
David McCallum,
Harmonia,
Eve St. Jones,
Ossler,
Josef K,
Interpol,
Sandy B,
K-Klass,
The Fortunes,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Ituana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
the Slits,
Flipper,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gories,
Nils Olav,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dirtbombs,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
La Düsseldorf,
Scion,
Lalann,
Yusef Lateef,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.