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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Dirtbombs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
a-ha,
Kas Product,
Morten Harket,
Lyres,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ponytail,
Q65,
Tres Demented,
Tropical Tobacco,
Infiniti,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Audionom,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Make Up,
John Lydon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Deakin,
Bill Wells,
Silicon Teens,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
Goldenarms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Buckinghams,
Moby Grape,
Heaven 17,
Wire,
Wasted Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
The Remains,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
The Five Americans,
Q and Not U,
China Crisis,
Blancmange,
Bluetip,
Hot Snakes,
CMW,
Nas,
John Foxx,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.