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 Tunisia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
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 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 The Golliwogs to the punk 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Minor Threat,
Bobby Sherman,
F. McDonald,
Harry Pussy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
Das Ding,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül II,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
The Fortunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Thee Headcoats,
Hardrive,
Talk Talk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cal Tjader,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric Copeland,
These Immortal Souls,
Josef K,
Radiohead,
Black Sheep,
The Sonics,
KRS-One,
James White and The Blacks,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
Kayak,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sound Behaviour,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
the Normal,
D'Angelo,
Davy DMX,
Bronski Beat,
The Doors,
Crime,
Piero Umiliani,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.