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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Freddie Wadling 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Sarah Menescal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thee Headcoats,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Severed Heads,
Peter & Gordon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Barbara Tucker,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
The Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
Dawn Penn,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
Mark Hollis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grey Daturas,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
The Buckinghams,
The Tremeloes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Young Marble Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donny Hathaway,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Mission of Burma,
The Young Rascals,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Public Enemy,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aloha Tigers,
Cybotron,
Aaron Thompson,
Donald Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
EPMD,
Danielle Patucci,
Moss Icon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
Hashim,
Junior Murvin,
the Germs,
Smog,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.