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 Chile and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Star Department to the grunge 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
Excepter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
Funky Four + One,
Cameo,
CMW,
Black Bananas,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Agitation Free,
The Fall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Outsiders,
Robert Görl,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brass Construction,
Kurtis Blow,
The Residents,
The Black Dice,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ohio Players,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Albert Ayler,
Delta 5,
Cheater Slicks,
Erykah Badu,
Scientists,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
the Germs,
The Velvet Underground,
R.M.O.,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
Pagans,
The Evens,
The Neon Judgement,
Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
The J.B.'s,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Moby Grape,
Surgeon,
The Associates,
The Saints,
Jacques Brel,
Alison Limerick,
The Golliwogs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Selecter,
Soulsonic Force,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.