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 Vanuatu and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 U.S. Maple to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Swans,
Brass Construction,
Second Layer,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
cv313,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Jerry's Kids,
Ludus,
Sister Nancy,
Simply Red,
The Techniques,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Holt,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Livin' Joy,
Pantytec,
Television,
Lou Reed,
Eden Ahbez,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neu!,
Camberwell Now,
Skaos,
Matthew Bourne,
Agitation Free,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
MDC,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
David McCallum,
Cheater Slicks,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cowsills,
Aural Exciters,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.