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 Palau and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 London and Winnipeg.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 48th St. Collective to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Modern Lovers,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Bar-Kays,
World's Most,
The Real Kids,
The Knickerbockers,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agent Orange,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABC,
the Normal,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Skriet,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Duran Duran,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dark Day,
Maurizio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hardrive,
The Last Poets,
the Germs,
Scan 7,
La Düsseldorf,
Intrusion,
Judy Mowatt,
F. McDonald,
The Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Dual Sessions,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Anakelly,
Blake Baxter,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
Archie Shepp,
Masters at Work,
Chrome,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.