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 Paraguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the electroclash 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Nils Olav,
Junior Murvin,
The Martian,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare,
Moebius,
Gil Scott Heron,
Whodini,
Flamin' Groovies,
Section 25,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Heaven 17,
Mandrill,
The Skatalites,
The Associates,
Fad Gadget,
R.M.O.,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
Kerri Chandler,
Chrome,
John Holt,
Audionom,
The Stooges,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eddi Front,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mad Mike,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
Barbara Tucker,
John Lydon,
Altered Images,
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.