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 Antigua and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crime to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Whodini,
a-ha,
Wings,
Model 500,
Von Mondo,
Yusef Lateef,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
The Associates,
Todd Terry,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Hashim,
Fat Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Arcadia,
The Golliwogs,
Joy Division,
Suburban Knight,
MDC,
Bob Dylan,
The Stooges,
The Motions,
Sugar Minott,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yaz,
New Age Steppers,
Ornette Coleman,
Magazine,
Maurizio,
Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Neu!,
June Days,
John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy Collins,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Freddie Wadling,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Matthew Halsall,
Masters at Work,
Royal Trux,
Janne Schatter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boz Scaggs,
DNA,
Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Aswad,
Lou Christie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.