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 Serbia and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Alton Ellis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bob Dylan,
The Cowsills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moebius,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Steve Hackett,
Byron Stingily,
Sandy B,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Rundgren,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
Crooked Eye,
Kaleidoscope,
The Pop Group,
Yellowson,
China Crisis,
Aaron Thompson,
Loose Ends,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
Erykah Badu,
New Age Steppers,
The Real Kids,
R.M.O.,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Dave Gahan,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Cell,
John Cale,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arthur Verocai,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
Cal Tjader,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
Fat Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Black Dice,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.