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 Congo and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Jeru the Damaja to the jazz 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Excepter,
Popol Vuh,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kurtis Blow,
Jawbox,
Supertramp,
X-Ray Spex,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Hoover,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
John Holt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lalann,
Letta Mbulu,
Urselle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
Joey Negro,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sugar Minott,
Man Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
Basic Channel,
Bill Wells,
B.T. Express,
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Maleditus Sound,
The Misunderstood,
DJ Sneak,
Amazonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Beau Brummels,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.