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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Germs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Starr,
Anakelly,
Babytalk,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Martian,
Stetsasonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
Royal Trux,
R.M.O.,
Crispy Ambulance,
KRS-One,
Donald Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gladiators,
Japan,
Vainqueur,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Smooth,
The Music Machine,
Moby Grape,
Can,
Minutemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Big Daddy Kane,
Qualms,
The Dead C,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Mission of Burma,
The Associates,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Faust,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Brass Construction,
Clear Light,
The Sonics,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Prunes,
Harmonia,
Visage,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Searchers,
Michelle Simonal,
Althea and Donna,
Prince Buster,
Vladislav Delay,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donny Hathaway,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
The Doors,
Tom Boy,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.