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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Deadbeat,
Qualms,
The Knickerbockers,
Stiv Bators,
The Doobie Brothers,
Robert Görl,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crooked Eye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fela Kuti,
Eurythmics,
Duran Duran,
PIL,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Maurizio,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Oneida,
In Retrospect,
Derrick May,
The New Christs,
Thompson Twins,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Dolphy,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donny Hathaway,
Minnie Riperton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Victims,
Gichy Dan,
Subhumans,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gun Club,
Derrick Morgan,
The Barracudas,
The Standells,
Black Pus,
Clear Light,
Magma,
Desert Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Skatalites,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
LL Cool J,
Letta Mbulu,
Nik Kershaw,
Audionom,
Ossler,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.