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 Haiti and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 kango's stein massive to the electroclash 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
The Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Ice-T,
Terry Callier,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Martian,
Joensuu 1685,
The Beau Brummels,
David Bowie,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Rotary Connection,
H. Thieme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
China Crisis,
Symarip,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
Unwound,
The Dirtbombs,
the Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joyce Sims,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Idris Muhammad,
Camberwell Now,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Lalann,
Sandy B,
Flash Fearless,
Saccharine Trust,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tim Buckley,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
Unrelated Segments,
The Raincoats,
The Invisible,
The Victims,
Excepter,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-Ray Spex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.