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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Echospace to the crunk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke 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?
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Basic Channel,
Marcia Griffiths,
U.S. Maple,
FM Einheit,
Intrusion,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül,
Buzzcocks,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
Fugazi,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
L. Decosne,
James White and The Blacks,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bauhaus,
Bush Tetras,
John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
Agent Orange,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
Blancmange,
Scientists,
Chris Corsano,
Crime,
Flipper,
Scratch Acid,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arthur Verocai,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric Dolphy,
Main Source,
Royal Trux,
Glenn Branca,
Black Sheep,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bob Dylan,
Alphaville,
Easy Going,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smiths,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.