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 the UAE and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Massinfluence,
Stetsasonic,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
Eden Ahbez,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
B.T. Express,
Guru Guru,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick May,
Qualms,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
Sister Nancy,
Livin' Joy,
JFA,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Iggy Pop,
Fluxion,
The Smoke,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Christie,
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
The Moleskins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
Pere Ubu,
Brothers Johnson,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
Skriet,
Bluetip,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monks,
Ten City,
Jeru the Damaja,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter,
Gang of Four,
Reuben Wilson,
Idris Muhammad,
Amazonics,
Minutemen,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.