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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Dual Sessions to the punk 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Alphaville,
Dawn Penn,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fatback Band,
John Holt,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thompson Twins,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Fraelich,
Q and Not U,
Hashim,
The Sound,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Barry Ungar,
Howard Jones,
Warsaw,
Fat Boys,
Rekid,
Marine Girls,
Aswad,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hasil Adkins,
David Bowie,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kas Product,
Procol Harum,
Infiniti,
Joe Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Maleditus Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joy Division,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Inner City,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
Sparks,
Bob Dylan,
The Leaves,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Womack,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science,
Jesper Dahlback,
The J.B.'s,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
The Pretty Things,
Los Fastidios,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.