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 Lebanon and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Loose Ends to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Fall,
Crime,
Heaven 17,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
The Toasters,
The Star Department,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
Yazoo,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Pylon,
Schoolly D,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
China Crisis,
Alison Limerick,
This Heat,
Glenn Branca,
June of 44,
the Swans,
Mantronix,
Tom Boy,
Morten Harket,
Bluetip,
Neu!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q65,
Quando Quango,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harmonia,
The Blackbyrds,
Mark Hollis,
the Bar-Kays,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
Lakeside,
Sam Rivers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barbara Tucker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronnie Foster,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Music Machine,
The Tremeloes,
K-Klass,
Graham Central Station,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
kango's stein massive,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.