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 Colombia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Danielle Patucci to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
The Sonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Kayak,
Bauhaus,
The Beau Brummels,
Moby Grape,
Young Marble Giants,
Funky Four + One,
The Associates,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
D'Angelo,
Scott Walker,
Monks,
Visage,
The Golliwogs,
Erasure,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
New Order,
The Victims,
Second Layer,
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
The Wake,
Johnny Clarke,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Accadde A,
Subhumans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alphaville,
Pantytec,
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
Tears for Fears,
The Misunderstood,
Brothers Johnson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Barracudas,
Dead Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
The Evens,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.