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 Rwanda and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
The Happenings,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
Eurythmics,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
These Immortal Souls,
Minny Pops,
Lower 48,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gladiators,
LL Cool J,
Idris Muhammad,
The Blackbyrds,
David Axelrod,
Michelle Simonal,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
X-102,
Niagra,
Skriet,
John Foxx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nas,
Wolf Eyes,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Cameo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DNA,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
The Wake,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cramps,
Black Bananas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
Hot Snakes,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Whodini,
Neu!,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
The Cowsills,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
the Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
The Move,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.