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 Chile and from Salvador.
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 Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Nico to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
The Selecter,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
Echospace,
Niagra,
Darondo,
June of 44,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
World's Most,
Bill Wells,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
Boz Scaggs,
Sandy B,
Nik Kershaw,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Whodini,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jandek,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
Scion,
Robert Hood,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
Anthony Braxton,
Johnny Clarke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Deepchord,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young,
Spoonie Gee,
Y Pants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tommy Roe,
Black Bananas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxette,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flipper,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.