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 Sierra Leone and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Mr. Review,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Youth Brigade,
Scan 7,
Moss Icon,
Saccharine Trust,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Tremeloes,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
The Remains,
Newcleus,
Thompson Twins,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Motions,
Minor Threat,
Hardrive,
The Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rotary Connection,
Pagans,
Index,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter and Kerry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Country Teasers,
The Searchers,
Bill Near,
Scott Walker,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dave Gahan,
Tim Buckley,
Theoretical Girls,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
ABC,
The Doors,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.