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 El Salvador and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 48th St. Collective to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Con Funk Shun,
Wire,
The Durutti Column,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hasil Adkins,
Man Eating Sloth,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Starr,
the Normal,
Average White Band,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
The Modern Lovers,
Parry Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Laurel Aitken,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
David McCallum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
DJ Style,
Robert Wyatt,
Nirvana,
The Fall,
Letta Mbulu,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
Silicon Teens,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Lydon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Rundgren,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dawn Penn,
The Barracudas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alphaville,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Liliput,
Charles Mingus,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Index,
PIL,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.