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 Solomon Islands 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echospace,
Gichy Dan,
Grey Daturas,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
David McCallum,
the Normal,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Last Poets,
John Coltrane,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
The Monochrome Set,
Pulsallama,
Sam Rivers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxy Music,
The Sound,
Eddi Front,
Average White Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Negative Approach,
Rapeman,
Brothers Johnson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Das Ding,
Boredoms,
Iggy Pop,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Toni Rubio,
MDC,
David Axelrod,
Can,
Blossom Toes,
The Blackbyrds,
Tears for Fears,
Joensuu 1685,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joyce Sims,
The Neon Judgement,
Altered Images,
The Skatalites,
ABC,
The Dirtbombs,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.