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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
KRS-One,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Wake,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crime,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Kerri Chandler,
Minor Threat,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television Personalities,
10cc,
The Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Carl Craig,
The Barracudas,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash,
China Crisis,
Los Fastidios,
Con Funk Shun,
John Holt,
OOIOO,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators,
Neil Young,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rotary Connection,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
Franke,
Jeff Lynne,
the Slits,
The Slits,
The Seeds,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.