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 Dominica and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Essential Logic to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Almond,
Jeru the Damaja,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
Connie Case,
June Days,
MC5,
Fad Gadget,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gladiators,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
John Holt,
Swans,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep,
Skriet,
ABBA,
Laurel Aitken,
The New Christs,
Jeff Lynne,
Dawn Penn,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
Gang of Four,
Pagans,
Yusef Lateef,
Lindisfarne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
Deakin,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
Derrick May,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Finger,
The Gun Club,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
Eden Ahbez,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Rod Modell,
Young Marble Giants,
Half Japanese,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.