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 Libya and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 Moby Grape to the disco 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jacob Miller,
D'Angelo,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Negative Approach,
Peter & Gordon,
Motorama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Y Pants,
Animal Collective,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
The Move,
Loose Ends,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
Barry Ungar,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Outsiders,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
The Residents,
Parry Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
The Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Skarface,
Cal Tjader,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Clear Light,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Kurtis Blow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Brand Nubian,
Country Teasers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Monks,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.