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 Papua New Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Gil Scott Heron to the crunk 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Clear Light,
The Litter,
New York Dolls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
Q65,
OOIOO,
Accadde A,
Minutemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Starr,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
ABC,
Aaron Thompson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
June Days,
Chris & Cosey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Agent Orange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mark Hollis,
The Monks,
Nas,
Black Bananas,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Whodini,
Man Parrish,
AZ,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
L. Decosne,
The Gories,
cv313,
Tomorrow,
Easy Going,
Michelle Simonal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minny Pops,
Lakeside,
Byron Stingily,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.