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 Poland and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DNA 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
8 Eyed Spy,
Japan,
Marc Almond,
The Selecter,
Groovy Waters,
Wally Richardson,
Alison Limerick,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Todd Terry,
The Associates,
Index,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Connie Case,
Shuggie Otis,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
Yazoo,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Coltrane,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neu!,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
Von Mondo,
EPMD,
MDC,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jandek,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra,
Cymande,
The Walker Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Second Layer,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donny Hathaway,
T.S.O.L.,
Joyce Sims,
Ultravox,
Banda Bassotti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Mars,
Suicide,
Pylon,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.