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 Swaziland and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the punk 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crash Course in Science,
Dave Gahan,
New York Dolls,
Matthew Halsall,
Wings,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Byrd,
Quantec,
Outsiders,
The Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Deadbeat,
The Move,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Godley & Creme,
Lindisfarne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
kango's stein massive,
The Durutti Column,
Ludus,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Starr,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crooked Eye,
Moss Icon,
Bill Near,
Black Flag,
Chris & Cosey,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moleskins,
Youth Brigade,
Audionom,
Flipper,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Aloha Tigers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Frankie Knuckles,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.