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 Somalia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Eddi Front,
Massinfluence,
The Litter,
Chris Corsano,
These Immortal Souls,
Supertramp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mission of Burma,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Moon,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
The Barracudas,
Camouflage,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
The Velvet Underground,
Mr. Review,
Royal Trux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Sight & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Christie,
Warren Ellis,
Sparks,
Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amazonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
Aural Exciters,
Donny Hathaway,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
Radiohead,
Cameo,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
Fatback Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.