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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Robert Palmer 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronan,
Surgeon,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Yazoo,
the Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Saccharine Trust,
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sällskapet,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
The Grass Roots,
Black Pus,
The Moleskins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nirvana,
The Golliwogs,
Sandy B,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Freddie Wadling,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
the Normal,
Joe Finger,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
Jerry's Kids,
Throbbing Gristle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Television Personalities,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
Echospace,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
X-102,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.