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 Palau and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Gang of Four to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Smog,
Siglo XX,
Lou Christie,
Circle Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Wyatt,
Organ,
Country Teasers,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tubeway Army,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Supertramp,
Slick Rick,
The Residents,
Barrington Levy,
Althea and Donna,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
Ponytail,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Judy Mowatt,
Joey Negro,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Albert Ayler,
New York Dolls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Bananas,
The Knickerbockers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Interpol,
The Moody Blues,
Marmalade,
cv313,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nico,
Arab on Radar,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
Neil Young,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division,
The Count Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camouflage,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.