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 Mauritius and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Wasted Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Brick,
Soft Cell,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
Sound Behaviour,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter & Gordon,
The Trojans,
Goldenarms,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
Gang Starr,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul II Soul,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
F. McDonald,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brass Construction,
Hasil Adkins,
Magma,
Josef K,
The Pop Group,
Das Ding,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Barracudas,
Franke,
Pussy Galore,
Lucky Dragons,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
Man Parrish,
The Busters,
The Slackers,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Model 500,
Danielle Patucci,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.