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 Andorra and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Roy Ayers to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Whodini,
Television,
Public Enemy,
Yazoo,
Jacques Brel,
the Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Roxette,
Stiv Bators,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Eddi Front,
The Modern Lovers,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Altered Images,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
PIL,
Fugazi,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare,
Hoover,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Raincoats,
Harmonia,
Black Bananas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Parry Music,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Nas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
Smog,
Section 25,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lyres,
Royal Trux,
The Remains,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slits,
Drexciya,
Anthony Braxton,
Fat Boys,
Half Japanese,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.