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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Camberwell Now to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sam Rivers,
Sun City Girls,
Crime,
Technova,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
The Standells,
Bobby Sherman,
Smog,
Hasil Adkins,
Tim Buckley,
Massinfluence,
Warren Ellis,
The Dead C,
Derrick May,
Grey Daturas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Nick Fraelich,
Donny Hathaway,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra,
Pere Ubu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Fluxion,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt,
Tom Boy,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
The Residents,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers,
The Move,
The Cure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Sonics,
Organ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mantronix,
Fear,
The Birthday Party,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.