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 Equatorial Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Excepter,
Godley & Creme,
Accadde A,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronnie Foster,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
Nik Kershaw,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gun Club,
Neu!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Main Source,
Amazonics,
Simply Red,
Deakin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
The Litter,
Prince Buster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
kango's stein massive,
In Retrospect,
Lalo Schifrin,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
the Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Niagra,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
Nas,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rotary Connection,
The Skatalites,
The Divine Comedy,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
X-Ray Spex,
Maurizio,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.