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 Canada and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fall,
Joy Division,
Kaleidoscope,
Unrelated Segments,
The Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
Gregory Isaacs,
These Immortal Souls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Human League,
Joyce Sims,
Don Cherry,
Henry Cow,
Funkadelic,
The Angels of Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
L. Decosne,
Pole,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed,
Animal Collective,
Vainqueur,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cowsills,
John Coltrane,
Smog,
Hoover,
Faust,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
the Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
Jacob Miller,
Masters at Work,
Stetsasonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brand Nubian,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.