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 Tajikistan and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 disco 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Sam Rivers,
Ornette Coleman,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Erasure,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
The Index,
Aural Exciters,
Magazine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ponytail,
Soulsonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
Mad Mike,
Circle Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fortunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra,
In Retrospect,
Infiniti,
the Bar-Kays,
Warsaw,
Godley & Creme,
Ten City,
Pierre Henry,
Donald Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
Laurel Aitken,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
Nirvana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yusef Lateef,
New Order,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Jawbox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultra Naté,
Jandek,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moss Icon,
Nico,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.