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 Sierra Leone and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rap 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Rod Modell,
Barry Ungar,
Peter and Kerry,
Moby Grape,
Kayak,
The Associates,
The Fuzztones,
Monolake,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
The Flesh Eaters,
Althea and Donna,
The Last Poets,
Wire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Count Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Skriet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Barrington Levy,
Blake Baxter,
Symarip,
Idris Muhammad,
One Last Wish,
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review,
Todd Terry,
The Star Department,
Rites of Spring,
The Seeds,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
Tres Demented,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Scan 7,
Motorama,
Bizarre Inc.,
Supertramp,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cramps,
Deadbeat,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Excepter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stetsasonic,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dirtbombs,
48th St. Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.