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 Namibia and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grunge 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Eli Mardock,
Lucky Dragons,
Smog,
The Names,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
Dual Sessions,
Can,
The Techniques,
The Count Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Patti Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cal Tjader,
ABBA,
Eve St. Jones,
KRS-One,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
The Fugs,
Make Up,
Funkadelic,
The Martian,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Anakelly,
Michelle Simonal,
The Zeros,
Rakim,
Connie Case,
Infiniti,
This Heat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang of Four,
Reagan Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
Wolf Eyes,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.