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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
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 Tom Verlaine 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 Intrusion to the rap 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
Wasted Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ponytail,
ABBA,
Faust,
The Slackers,
Dennis Brown,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
The Star Department,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rakim,
Supertramp,
Aaron Thompson,
The Red Krayola,
Janne Schatter,
Kayak,
Arthur Verocai,
Moby Grape,
The Mummies,
AZ,
Yellowson,
Black Pus,
Bang On A Can,
Suburban Knight,
Josef K,
Kerri Chandler,
Au Pairs,
Scrapy,
Organ,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Severed Heads,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls,
Little Man,
The Sonics,
Anakelly,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
The Busters,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tommy Roe,
Chrome,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.