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 Israel and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 X-102 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Gichy Dan,
Black Sheep,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Pantytec,
Laurel Aitken,
Sixth Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
Groovy Waters,
Scion,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
the Germs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
Ludus,
cv313,
Patti Smith,
ABC,
Davy DMX,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boz Scaggs,
Motorama,
Khruangbin,
June Days,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mojo Men,
The Cowsills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Johnny Clarke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Intrusion,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Gang Starr,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alphaville,
Suburban Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.