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 Luxembourg and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 X-101 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Litter,
The Last Poets,
Hasil Adkins,
JFA,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
Smog,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Moss Icon,
E-Dancer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joy Division,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Sonics,
DNA,
David Bowie,
The Young Rascals,
Fad Gadget,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flash Fearless,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Franke,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quando Quango,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
Warren Ellis,
Faraquet,
Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gun Club,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
Barrington Levy,
The Victims,
Tim Buckley,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-101,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Star Department,
Lucky Dragons,
Nik Kershaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.