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 Zambia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 John Holt to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
Kaleidoscope,
Interpol,
Model 500,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Joey Negro,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Anthony Braxton,
the Normal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Intrusion,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
Black Bananas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Moon,
June of 44,
Subhumans,
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
Cheater Slicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ponytail,
David Bowie,
the Bar-Kays,
Fluxion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tom Boy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brick,
John Coltrane,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
World's Most,
Groovy Waters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dark Day,
Rosa Yemen,
Wolf Eyes,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.