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 Benin and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the punk 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Gerry Rafferty,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
Hashim,
Michelle Simonal,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Womack,
Boz Scaggs,
Panda Bear,
Rotary Connection,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick May,
Rakim,
Sight & Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Oblivians,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zero Boys,
Peter & Gordon,
Buzzcocks,
Livin' Joy,
JFA,
Wally Richardson,
D'Angelo,
Tres Demented,
Yellowson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oneida,
This Heat,
The Electric Prunes,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
Ludus,
Cecil Taylor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
Lakeside,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Main Source,
Crispian St. Peters,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
Wings,
Fluxion,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.