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 Thailand and from Toronto.
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 Accra and London.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Nick Fraelich to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Gladiators,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick Morgan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Laurel Aitken,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Skarface,
The Pop Group,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacques Brel,
One Last Wish,
Iggy Pop,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Marc Almond,
Faust,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brothers Johnson,
Oneida,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
a-ha,
Second Layer,
Sällskapet,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
The Smiths,
Hot Snakes,
Duran Duran,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Skriet,
Ultravox,
The Mummies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
Popol Vuh,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Mr. Review,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Buckinghams,
The Leaves,
Josef K,
Eric Copeland,
Bad Manners,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sonics,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.