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 Lithuania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 Tres Demented to the dance 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
Althea and Donna,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ituana,
The Dirtbombs,
Loose Ends,
Brand Nubian,
Nils Olav,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Con Funk Shun,
Television Personalities,
Kerrie Biddell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
The Gladiators,
Ten City,
Cluster,
Youth Brigade,
Unwound,
Anthony Braxton,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mandrill,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Motions,
The Litter,
Index,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacob Miller,
Basic Channel,
Parry Music,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance,
Funkadelic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Country Teasers,
The Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Prince Buster,
Harmonia,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
10cc,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.