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 Jordan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kenny Larkin to the crunk 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Von Mondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
The Raincoats,
Tomorrow,
Ken Boothe,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
Henry Cow,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Intrusion,
Brick,
Jeff Mills,
Black Pus,
Deadbeat,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Kinks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jandek,
The Modern Lovers,
Camouflage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ornette Coleman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Agitation Free,
Mandrill,
Interpol,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Silicon Teens,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
Mad Mike,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wings,
The Fuzztones,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Maleditus Sound,
David McCallum,
Lightning Bolt,
Charles Mingus,
Michelle Simonal,
Make Up,
The J.B.'s,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.