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 Croatia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Eddi Front to the dance 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Sixth Finger,
Pet Shop Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
48th St. Collective,
Little Man,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
Ronan,
Camouflage,
Easy Going,
The Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Trumans Water,
Fugazi,
Spoonie Gee,
The Motions,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deakin,
Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Fat Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Warren Ellis,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Second Layer,
These Immortal Souls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Echospace,
Minny Pops,
Marvin Gaye,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Kool Moe Dee,
Subhumans,
Aswad,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
Archie Shepp,
Duran Duran,
Stetsasonic,
Inner City,
Slick Rick,
Glenn Branca,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
John Holt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.