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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Suburban Knight to the dance 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
Flipper,
Wings,
Sällskapet,
Clear Light,
Black Bananas,
The Slackers,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
UT,
48th St. Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
DNA,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
Robert Görl,
La Düsseldorf,
Intrusion,
Deadbeat,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Zeros,
Chris & Cosey,
Nico,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
Man Parrish,
Moss Icon,
The Birthday Party,
Ponytail,
Television,
Scan 7,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Main Source,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Dead Boys,
Pulsallama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.