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 Lesotho and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 The Golliwogs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amazonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
The Doors,
Cluster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magma,
Absolute Body Control,
Lungfish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Nirvana,
Leonard Cohen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Toni Rubio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Bourne,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Warsaw,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Rundgren,
Livin' Joy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Green,
MDC,
Colin Newman,
Ludus,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
This Heat,
Sandy B,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Siglo XX,
the Human League,
Urselle,
Lou Christie,
Althea and Donna,
Young Marble Giants,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monolake,
T. Rex,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.