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 Mauritius and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Moon to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Flash Fearless,
Byron Stingily,
The Stooges,
Can,
Moss Icon,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
The Young Rascals,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Sällskapet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Rosa Yemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Deepchord,
Talk Talk,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Finger,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Ponytail,
Aswad,
New Age Steppers,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Minutemen,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Sherman,
June Days,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronnie Foster,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
Dave Gahan,
Black Pus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.