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 Italy and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pussy Galore 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
Gichy Dan,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Red Krayola,
Max Romeo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Mandrill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
Roxette,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Divine Comedy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Almond,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
The Five Americans,
Lower 48,
Arthur Verocai,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Buzzcocks,
Erykah Badu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
K-Klass,
Scion,
Livin' Joy,
Minnie Riperton,
Negative Approach,
Subhumans,
Wasted Youth,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
The Offenders,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül,
Rekid,
The Gap Band,
Section 25,
Bobby Sherman,
Janne Schatter,
Pierre Henry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masters at Work,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
Ultravox,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.