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 Cape Verde and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
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 güiro 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Terry,
The Invisible,
Wire,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
The Evens,
Charles Mingus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Interpol,
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unrelated Segments,
The Happenings,
Bobby Sherman,
Television,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
Alice Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Absolute Body Control,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
Amon Düül II,
DNA,
The Skatalites,
The Smoke,
The New Christs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
New York Dolls,
Bauhaus,
Can,
Shoche,
EPMD,
Symarip,
Mark Hollis,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
FM Einheit,
Donny Hathaway,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.