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 Argentina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Josef K,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Chris Corsano,
Dawn Penn,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
This Heat,
Siglo XX,
Sam Rivers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
La Düsseldorf,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chrome,
Junior Murvin,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brick,
The Vogues,
the Germs,
Flipper,
Interpol,
The Martian,
Barrington Levy,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Cecil Taylor,
Kas Product,
Radiopuhelimet,
Faraquet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Al Stewart,
Skriet,
Mission of Burma,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
The Gladiators,
Black Bananas,
Underground Resistance,
Rod Modell,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eden Ahbez,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yazoo,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.