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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
D'Angelo,
Gabor Szabo,
Graham Central Station,
The Tremeloes,
Kurtis Blow,
The Red Krayola,
X-101,
Dennis Brown,
The Fuzztones,
The Knickerbockers,
Crash Course in Science,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moody Blues,
Sarah Menescal,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Q65,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
Echospace,
Swans,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
Drexciya,
Rakim,
Blancmange,
Alton Ellis,
David Bowie,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
Mantronix,
Amazonics,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Chrome,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
Basic Channel,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Michelle Simonal,
Barrington Levy,
Piero Umiliani,
Unwound,
Moss Icon,
Malaria!,
The Skatalites,
Harry Pussy,
Dave Gahan,
Ultra Naté,
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.