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 Grenada and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Happenings to the disco 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gun Club,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
Gong,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chris Corsano,
Tomorrow,
The Golliwogs,
Zero Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Suicide,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rites of Spring,
Iggy Pop,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agent Orange,
Crime,
Wings,
Ponytail,
The Busters,
Jandek,
Sugar Minott,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bush Tetras,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cymande,
Patti Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
The Searchers,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Swans,
Suburban Knight,
a-ha,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.