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 Niger and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Suicide to the electroclash 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Litter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh,
Crispy Ambulance,
Can,
Chris Corsano,
Mary Jane Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donny Hathaway,
Gong,
Sparks,
Don Cherry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bootsy Collins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Associates,
Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
David Axelrod,
Echospace,
Japan,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Red Krayola,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Adolescents,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
Aloha Tigers,
Howard Jones,
Mr. Review,
The Moody Blues,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.