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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Sugar Minott to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terry Callier,
Ten City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spoonie Gee,
LL Cool J,
Man Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Starr,
Spandau Ballet,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chrome,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Young Marble Giants,
Monolake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Underground Resistance,
Henry Cow,
Eric B and Rakim,
New York Dolls,
Los Fastidios,
The Electric Prunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
MDC,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Teasers,
Black Sheep,
Procol Harum,
Schoolly D,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jerry's Kids,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radio Birdman,
Model 500,
Hot Snakes,
One Last Wish,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
ABBA,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Index,
Amon Düül II,
Nas,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
Marmalade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Unrelated Segments,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.