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 Panama and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Delta 5 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yusef Lateef,
Tom Boy,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
Marmalade,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Cell,
Peter and Kerry,
Massinfluence,
Tommy Roe,
Magazine,
Patti Smith,
Supertramp,
Delta 5,
48th St. Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
OOIOO,
The Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Moon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABBA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Black Flag,
Deadbeat,
Scientists,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sonics,
Skaos,
Aloha Tigers,
The Modern Lovers,
Yellowson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Clarke,
Basic Channel,
Make Up,
John Lydon,
Franke,
KRS-One,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
Mandrill,
Gang Starr,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.