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 Japan and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
L. Decosne,
The Standells,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
James White and The Blacks,
Radio Birdman,
Iggy Pop,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bad Manners,
Newcleus,
Sixth Finger,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
Country Teasers,
Inner City,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
Deepchord,
This Heat,
A Certain Ratio,
Hoover,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Brand Nubian,
Desert Stars,
Zapp,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Model 500,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
Quadrant,
The Cowsills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
Lucky Dragons,
Maurizio,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Nils Olav,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magma,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Flag,
Lalann,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.