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 Comoros and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joe Finger to the disco 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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Essential Logic,
Eddi Front,
Dave Gahan,
China Crisis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Red Krayola,
Stereo Dub,
The Standells,
Unwound,
Crash Course in Science,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers,
Chris Corsano,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
Japan,
Blossom Toes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dead C,
Peter and Kerry,
Thompson Twins,
Clear Light,
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Litter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
The Victims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Roger Hodgson,
Hardrive,
H. Thieme,
The Associates,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Knickerbockers,
John Foxx,
Junior Murvin,
Nas,
New Order,
Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Kaleidoscope,
Amazonics,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.