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 Vietnam and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slackers to the electroclash 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Reuben Wilson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cramps,
Wings,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
10cc,
Agent Orange,
The Count Five,
The Selecter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Tim Buckley,
Metal Thangz,
Animal Collective,
Brand Nubian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dave Gahan,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers,
Soul II Soul,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bad Manners,
Au Pairs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Human League,
the Slits,
DNA,
Quadrant,
The Index,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Circle Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
Slick Rick,
David Axelrod,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Hardrive,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.