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 Malta and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
Joy Division,
Scrapy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soulsonic Force,
Khruangbin,
Crime,
Joyce Sims,
The Golliwogs,
The Wake,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swell Maps,
Stetsasonic,
Eric Copeland,
Altered Images,
Shuggie Otis,
One Last Wish,
Y Pants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Schoolly D,
Robert Görl,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultravox,
Dawn Penn,
Unwound,
Jeru the Damaja,
MC5,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Model 500,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cluster,
DNA,
Eurythmics,
Donald Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
Steve Hackett,
Slick Rick,
Peter & Gordon,
Jandek,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Monolake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flipper,
Tommy Roe,
Adolescents,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.