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 Armenia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 The Names to the funk 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Hot Snakes,
The Star Department,
Kenny Larkin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Zeros,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Maurizio,
The Index,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Young Marble Giants,
Main Source,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Scion,
Procol Harum,
MDC,
Niagra,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slackers,
Marmalade,
Pagans,
Boz Scaggs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warsaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Smog,
James White and The Blacks,
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy,
B.T. Express,
Eric Dolphy,
Nas,
Man Parrish,
Q65,
KRS-One,
The Count Five,
Joe Smooth,
John Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Starr,
Yaz,
Soul II Soul,
48th St. Collective,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.