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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vainqueur to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Symarip,
The Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Black Moon,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Duran Duran,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Finger,
The Move,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens,
Trumans Water,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
Toni Rubio,
Rakim,
The New Christs,
Blossom Toes,
Drexciya,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Vogues,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
The Blues Magoos,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Roger Hodgson,
The Names,
Zapp,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Prince Buster,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television Personalities,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Rekid,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vainqueur,
Colin Newman,
FM Einheit,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.