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 Mozambique and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sound Behaviour to the electroclash 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
Carl Craig,
Oblivians,
Althea and Donna,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hashim,
The Dirtbombs,
Oneida,
The Wake,
Albert Ayler,
Al Stewart,
kango's stein massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
Sound Behaviour,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agent Orange,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Vogues,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
The Moleskins,
The Tremeloes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Organ,
Slave,
The Fire Engines,
Janne Schatter,
AZ,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Henry Cow,
June Days,
Kerri Chandler,
ABC,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Sixth Finger,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
EPMD,
Joe Smooth,
The Toasters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quando Quango,
Ultravox,
Pussy Galore,
Outsiders,
Don Cherry,
Minutemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.