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 Cape Verde and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Lou Reed 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 Bob Dylan to the funk 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Sällskapet,
Essential Logic,
The Gap Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
Idris Muhammad,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tears for Fears,
B.T. Express,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
Los Fastidios,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gladiators,
The Remains,
Motorama,
Sex Pistols,
Country Teasers,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
Adolescents,
Bang On A Can,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quadrant,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Al Stewart,
The Mighty Diamonds,
K-Klass,
Isaac Hayes,
Wire,
L. Decosne,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Infiniti,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cowsills,
10cc,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deepchord,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.