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 Ghana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thee Headcoats to the techno 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Rod Modell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Panda Bear,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
Alphaville,
Skriet,
Silicon Teens,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slits,
Susan Cadogan,
The Knickerbockers,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Junior Murvin,
The Standells,
Mandrill,
Thompson Twins,
The Dead C,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Techniques,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Danielle Patucci,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks,
Warsaw,
Peter and Kerry,
Marvin Gaye,
Bush Tetras,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gladiators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Groovy Waters,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.