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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 The Saints to the disco 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Bowie,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vainqueur,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
The Barracudas,
The Fortunes,
Essential Logic,
Moebius,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
Alison Limerick,
Yaz,
Andrew Hill,
OOIOO,
Pantaleimon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ornette Coleman,
Accadde A,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Dead Boys,
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Prince Buster,
Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Cecil Taylor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cheater Slicks,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
Porter Ricks,
Niagra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tubeway Army,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lightning Bolt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dual Sessions,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Los Fastidios,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.