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 Micronesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Last Poets,
Ohio Players,
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
Ponytail,
Ultra Naté,
The Move,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arab on Radar,
The Stooges,
the Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
Darondo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Whodini,
Fat Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
Ten City,
Graham Central Station,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Animal Collective,
Gerry Rafferty,
Albert Ayler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gabor Szabo,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Görl,
The Slits,
Excepter,
Schoolly D,
Warsaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Carl Craig,
Danielle Patucci,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
The Misunderstood,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
The Zeros,
Visage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.