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 Rwanda and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dead C to the crunk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Porter Ricks,
Henry Cow,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Pulsallama,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Kurtis Blow,
James White and The Blacks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marine Girls,
Carl Craig,
The Gladiators,
Stiv Bators,
Dark Day,
Bill Wells,
Pole,
Nation of Ulysses,
Godley & Creme,
Sixth Finger,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aural Exciters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
Cluster,
The Fortunes,
Hashim,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Matthew Bourne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
Pagans,
The Divine Comedy,
Glenn Branca,
The Gap Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Loose Ends,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gerry Rafferty,
a-ha,
The Smiths,
Zapp,
The Fall,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül II,
Hoover,
The Index,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.