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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
L. Decosne,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Roxette,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barry Ungar,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Görl,
Con Funk Shun,
Susan Cadogan,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
Negative Approach,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Reuben Wilson,
Television Personalities,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Ohio Players,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
The Smoke,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres,
Glambeats Corp.,
Massinfluence,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Neu!,
Y Pants,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Near,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.