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 Guatemala and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
T.S.O.L.,
Lindisfarne,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
Tom Boy,
Livin' Joy,
The Slits,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joy Division,
Subhumans,
Eric Dolphy,
Symarip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rapeman,
Yazoo,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Average White Band,
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
R.M.O.,
In Retrospect,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Evens,
Royal Trux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
Judy Mowatt,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dawn Penn,
Lower 48,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.