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 Namibia and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hasil Adkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unwound,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
AZ,
Bauhaus,
Marmalade,
Sight & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Hoover,
X-Ray Spex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Evens,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
The Mummies,
Kayak,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pole,
Country Teasers,
Can,
Gang of Four,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Fela Kuti,
Freddie Wadling,
Jawbox,
Visage,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Aloha Tigers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
Second Layer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brand Nubian,
Colin Newman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.